


only thing you let hold you

by sugarcubeshiro



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, First Kiss, Idiots in Love, M/M, Minor James Griffin/Ryan Kinkade, Mutual Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love, POV Shiro (Voltron), Post-Canon, Season/Series 07, Slow Dancing, a little bit of jealousy, because as we all know s8 doesnt exist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:01:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23860486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sugarcubeshiro/pseuds/sugarcubeshiro
Summary: “Thanks, Shiro,” Keith mutters, “but that doesn’t make it less awkward when I have to turn down a bunch of people I don’t even know. Which I’m sure you know about too. I mean, which one of us do you think all these guys have been asking first before moving onto the other?”Shiro laughs again, but then he pauses as a thought crosses his mind.This is the point where he should stop, examine that thought, turn it over in his mind—then quickly let it pass by as he realizes how absolutely ridiculous it is, and never think of it again.Shiro does not do that.Instead, before he can even think about what it is he’s saying, he blurts out, “Hey, we should go together.”~Or: Shiro only wants to go with Keith to the ATLAS’ Valentine’s ball. Keith only wants to go with Shiro to the ATLAS’ Valentine’s ball. Shiro does not know this when he asks Keith to be his date.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron), Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 95
Kudos: 381





	only thing you let hold you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sequence_fairy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sequence_fairy/gifts).



> a happy VERY belated sheithlentines to [jess](https://twitter.com/warpspeed_chic)!! i’m so sorry you had to wait so long for this! especially when everything on your wishlist was so perfect, tbh i wish i could’ve written all of it, but i really hope you’ll enjoy some good ol’ fashioned fake dating fools with some of the other stuff sprinkled in here and there. ♥️
> 
> thank you a million times to [audrey](https://twitter.com/cosmicbeebees) & [liz](https://twitter.com/disloyalpunk) for all the help and cheerleading on this one, you’re both literally my heroes

“So,” Keith says while wiping his paint-stained hands off on the already smudged towel he keeps tucked into one of the front pockets of his black pants. “A Valentine’s ball, right here on the ATLAS, huh? Who would’ve thought.”

Shiro huffs and jumps down the last two steps from the ladder he’s on, landing right in front of Keith. “Yeah, well...” he says as they both turn towards the big table next to them and look at the large banner Keith has helped paint for the occasion. “The MFE’s said it’ll lift everyone’s spirit, and, you know—”

“—what makes the crew happy, the crew gets,” Keith fills in for him with a nod. “I know, Captain.” He playfully swats the towel against Shiro’s shoulder, snorting at his pout before starting to brush something off Shiro’s shirt. “Look at you, you’ve gotten glitter all over yourself... it’s like we’re setting up a Pride parade instead.”

Shiro laughs, but quickly turns thoughtful. “Hm. Do you think we _should_ have one of those sometime? I bet the crew would love that too.”

Keith gives him a long stare that Shiro can’t read. “Uh. Sure?”

“What?” Shiro says, his frown deepening when Keith turns back to the table with the banner on it. _“What,_ Keith?”

“Nothing! It’s just—you could sound a little excited about doing these things because it’s what _you_ want to do, too, you know?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m just saying.” Keith gives him a smile, but Shiro knows him well enough to tell it’s strained. Not that someone would need to know Keith very well, or maybe even at all, to tell that particular thing about him—he always looks more nauseous than happy when he tries to be polite but doesn’t mean it. Shiro would bet anything Keith thinks he’s totally subtle about it too, which is as hilarious as it is adorable.

“It’s your ship, Shiro,” Keith continues. “You’re the Captain. You make the final call for these things, and honestly? I think this whole Valentine’s party is a great idea. So, y’know, I think you deserve to look forward to it because it’s gonna be _fun._ Not because you think it’ll make someone else happy or whatever.”

Shiro stares at him. He’s not sure what to say, unprepared for Keith’s sincerity. It’s always been one of the things he loves the most about Keith, though—how thoughtful and considerate he can be with the people who are allowed to see that side of him.

Which makes Shiro feel kind of shitty for how defensive he suddenly got.

He knows Keith only means well, so instead of acting on the impulse to argue with him, Shiro distracts himself by picking up another package of pink balloons and ripping it open. “Trust me, buddy,” he chuckles, “I do think this is all super exciting, too. Can’t wait to see my crew shit-faced and find out who’s making out with who so I can hold it over their heads for the rest of their lives.”

Thankfully Keith doesn’t call him out on deflecting; he only laughs softly while Shiro starts blowing up one of the balloons.

And seriously, Shiro _is_ excited.

He loves that they can do these things now. A Valentine’s party on the ATLAS is a far cry from the war they had to use this ship to fight only a year or so ago. They’re only back at the Garrison for three weeks before heading out into space again, and as much fun as it is to be the Captain of the largest human ship used to explore the universe, it’s still a lot of _work._ A party of any sort will be a great way to wind down and relax, get everyone’s mind off anything other than having fun and enjoying themselves.

Still, Shiro wishes it could’ve been for anything but Valentine’s Day. A whole day dedicated to romantic love, with a night spent putting extra focus on it? That’s kind of a touchy spot for him personally right now.

Has been, for the past three or four years or so, really.

“I’m sure at least Kinkade and Griffin will give us a show once Griffin’s got a drink or two in him... like always.” Keith shoots Shiro a grin and picks up a balloon of his own, looking down at it for a moment. “And, uh, what about you?”

“What about me?” Shiro pauses from blowing air into his balloon just long enough to ask. It’s almost completely filled anyway.

“Are you bringing anyone to drunkenly make out with in front of your whole crew?”

The balloon makes a loud _pfffffft_ -noise as it slips from Shiro’s hand, and they both stare as it sails across the room until it drops to the ground, deflated. “Whoops,” Shiro whispers. “Um, I—no. No, that’s—”

Keith gives him a look that Shiro just _knows_ means he’s thinking _‘told you so’,_ even if he’s not saying it out loud.

“Listen, Keith, it’s not—I could go with someone if I wanted to.”

“Yeah?” One corner of Keith’s mouth twitches. “But you don’t want to?”

“I’ve gotten a lot of offers.”

“Oh, a _lot,_ huh?”

“Yeah,” Shiro says and nods. “I’ve been turning guys down for weeks. It’s painful at this point.”

It’s not actually a lie, or a joke, but Keith still laughs out loud. “I’m sorry you’re such a snack that everyone wants a bite, Captain.”

“Shut it, you little punk,” Shiro says and swats his palm at the back of Keith’s head.

Keith only laughs louder, squirming away so Shiro can’t reach him unless he uses his Altean hand.

“Is that the real reason you’ve seemed like you’re not really looking forward to all of this?” Keith asks as he rounds the table to stand opposite Shiro. “You can’t deal with all of your admirers giving you attention?”

“I can deal with it just fine.” Shiro’s pretty sure the blush heating his cheeks and the tip of his ears has to be showing by now. He can’t look Keith in the eyes when he says, “I’m just not, uh—not really interested in dating anyone right now.”

“No?” Keith says, sounding softer. 

Shiro glances back at him with a quick smile. “I have enough to deal with in my life.”

Such as being desperately in love with his best friend, who’s currently standing in front of him and asking about his love life, for one.

“Enough you can’t let loose a little, even for one night?” Keith says.

“I don’t think anyone from my crew—or even the Garrison—would be who I’d pick for, like... a hookup, you know?”

“Oh.”

“I mean, it’s—um,” Shiro fumbles for words. Close as he is with Keith, they don’t really talk about these things. Ever. Keith has never brought up anything about anyone he’s seeing, not even the most casual flings, and Shiro has never asked. Both to spare himself the heartache and because his brain does a good enough job all on its own picturing Keith having sex while Shiro’s alone in bed with a hand around his dick and a toy in his ass. He doesn’t need stories from real life to flavour his fantasies and add to the shame he already feels about that.

“It’s just—it’d be unprofessional,” Shiro settles for. “I don’t want to sleep with someone I work with, and like you said, I’m the Captain. I work with _everyone_ here.”

“Yeah,” Keith murmurs, and Shiro’s once again unable to read the quiet expression on his face as Keith looks down at the table. “Guess I can understand that.”

“Well, what about you?” Shiro says when silence stretches between them for a beat too long. “Do you have anyone special in your life you’re bringing tomorrow?”

_“No.”_ Keith snorts like Shiro said something hilarious.

“Oh, so it’s just the Captain that needs to let loose, huh? Not the Black Paladin?”

“No one I’d want to go with has asked me yet.” Keith peeks up at him from beneath his dark lashes and Shiro swallows, both at the sight and the implication that there _is_ someone Keith would like to go with.

Shiro doesn’t have the right to feel hurt by that, though. He’s been silently pining after Keith for so long now, he shouldn’t be surprised to hear that he’s interested in someone. No matter how much Shiro’s been dreading it, deep down he’s always known it was only a matter of time. He can’t expect to live forever in his little bubble of knowing he can’t have Keith while still hoping he won’t have to deal with watching someone else have him either.

Keith is the most perfect man in the whole universe. One day Shiro will have to face the facts, and accept that Keith will fall in love with someone just as amazing as himself. And it’s never going to be Shiro he’s interested in.

“So you do have a lot of people asking you out, though?” Shiro asks, trying his hardest to sound casual. “Just... no one you’d like to go with?”

Keith pouts. “Is that so hard to believe?”

“What? No! God, no, of course not. You’re a catch, Keith, and really beautiful, anyone would be lucky to—” Shiro snaps his mouth shut to stop rambling when he sees Keith’s eyes widen. _Goddammit._ Letting out an awkward little laugh, Shiro forces himself not to visibly flinch when it sounds strangled even to his own ears. “I just meant—you sure have grown up, huh, buddy?”

Keith stares at him like Shiro’s grown a second head for another moment, but then finally rolls his eyes and mutters, “You’re just noticing that _now,_ old man?”

That’s the thing about Keith—while he knows Shiro too well and wouldn’t mindlessly buy it whenever Shiro tries to brush something off, Keith also knows when to back off and let something go.

“I—no,” Shiro says, eternally grateful that Keith isn’t pushing. “Of course I’m not just noticing now, you were just—you’re the one who was making fun of me!”

Keith snorts at that. “I wasn’t making fun of you. I’m well aware of how much everyone loves you, I’m not surprised they all want—” he lifts a hand, gesturing vaguely in the general direction of Shiro’s torso, “—some of that.”

“Dick,” Shiro mutters.

“I wasn’t trying to be that crude, but okay,” Keith says, then promptly turns his back to him and ducks down, disappearing into a crouch behind the table.

Shiro stares at the empty space where Keith stood two seconds ago while he listens to Keith rummage around in one of the boxes with party supplies.

“Keith,” Shiro says. “Did you just—make a pun?”

Keith peeks up at him over the edge of the table with squinted eyes. “Maybe,” he says, before disappearing as fast again.

Shiro snorts, even though he’s glad Keith isn’t looking at him, because his whole face must be as red as a tomato by now.

Keith made a pun.

About _Shiro’s dick._

“Seriously though, Shiro, don’t worry,” Keith says, still hidden from view behind the table, doing whatever it is he’s doing. “Garrison employee or not, you’re gonna find someone.”

Shiro holds back a deep, dramatic sigh. Keith means well, but Shiro already knows that he won’t. There’s never going to be anyone who could measure up to Keith, and Shiro doesn’t care how much that makes him sound like a thirteen-year-old school boy with his first unrequited crush, because that’s the truth. He couldn’t care less about finding ‘someone’ when the only man he’ll ever want is right in front of him, hiding from his own dick joke behind this table.

And nothing could be more painful than how someone so close to him can still feel so out of reach.

“Thanks, Keith,” Shiro says weakly. “You too. You’ll find someone. And seriously—you should ask whoever _you_ want to go with to come with you tomorrow.”

Keith only chuckles at that, the rich sound of it completely devastating with the way it slices through Shiro’s heart, a casual yet deathly reminder of how much Keith makes him _want._

“I don’t wanna go with anyone,” Keith says. “It’s fine.”

“No?” Shiro frowns. He could’ve sworn it sounded like Keith said he did earlier, but—it’s not always easy to read between the lines of what Keith’s talking about, no matter how well Shiro knows him. “There’s no cute guy you’ve been hoping would ask you out?”

Shiro doesn’t even know if he’s asking at this point because he’s trying to convince himself that he’s a good friend who still wants Keith to be happy, or if he’s just—well. Snooping.

Either way, he can’t stop himself.

And the way Shiro’s fingers curl into fists as he waits for Keith’s reply quickly tells him that he’s _definitely_ just snooping right now.

“‘S just not my thing,” Keith says with a click of his tongue right as his hand shows up and slams a package of confetti onto the table before withdrawing again.

“Wait.” Shiro furrows his brows. “Cute guys aren’t your thing suddenly?”

There’s a long pause before Keith says, sounding very confused, _“Suddenly?”_

Shiro’s frown deepens. He knows Keith has told him that he’s into guys. He definitely wasn’t reading between the lines on _that_ conversation.

He opens his mouth to clarify, but Keith beats him to it. “Anyway, it’s like you said—we both rank higher than most people around here, right?” Keith says, and not even being able to see his face now really isn’t helping Shiro in his struggle to get a read on his tone. “It’s, uh, unprofessional. At this point, the only reason I’d bring a date tomorrow would be so I don’t have to tell another cadet _no_ again and then feel bad because I know they think I sounded rude. Even though I really, seriously didn’t mean to.”

“That’s just part of the whole broody bad boy charm you’ve got going on.” Shiro chuckles softly. “If they don’t like it when you’re blunt they don’t deserve you at all.”

“Thanks, Shiro,” Keith mutters, “but that doesn’t make it less awkward when I have to turn down a bunch of people I don’t even know. Which I’m sure you know about too. I mean, which one of us do you think all these guys have been asking first before moving onto the other?”

Shiro laughs again, but then he pauses as a thought crosses his mind.

This is the point where he should stop, examine that thought, turn it over in his mind—then quickly let it pass by as he realizes how absolutely ridiculous it is, and never think of it again.

Shiro does not do that.

Instead, before he can even think about what it is he’s saying, he blurts out, “Hey, we should go together.”

Keith’s head pops up so fast from behind the table that Shiro startles. “What?”

“I—uh.” Shiro blinks quickly a couple of times as his brain finally _does_ take a moment to consider what he just said. What he just asked his best friend. His closest bro. The guy who Shiro thinks of as the person he has his dearest and most treasured relationship with out of anyone, ever, platonic or otherwise. “Not in a weird way! Just—since you don’t have anyone to go with and I don’t have anyone to go with. This way you can tell anyone else asking that you’re off the market. And I won’t have to listen to Nadia and Veronica talk about how I’m the most boring person alive.”

“Aren’t both of them single, too?” Keith tilts his head to the side and Shiro looks down at him where he’s still crouching by the table.

“Um. Yeah? But that doesn’t stop them from making fun of me for not—how did you put it? _Letting loose_ a little every once in a while.”

Keith sticks his tongue out around his grin. “You know we’re right, Captain.”

“Stop trying to make me get laid.” Shiro pouts, then hurries out, “Now, do you want to go with me to the first of what I’m sure will be a _long_ tradition of yearly Valentine’s balls on the ATLAS, or not?”

Keith’s smile softens as he studies Shiro’s face for a moment. “As friends?”

“Yup.” Shiro nods. “Exactly.”

“So... just hanging out on Valentine’s together, completely platonically, so other guys will stop asking us out.”

“Absolutely.” Shiro’s nodding intensifies. “You know. As bros.”

Keith snorts and shakes his head. “You’re very weird, you know.”

“If you think it’s a dumb idea you could just say no—”

“No, no!” Keith finally stands up, planting his palms on the table while leaning forward with a smirk. “Believe it or not, I’ve been told I’m weird once or twice in my life, too. I’d love to be your Valentine’s date.”

“You sure?” Shiro says. He’s proud the words don’t come out squeaked. “I seriously didn’t mean anything weird with it, Keith.”

“I know, Shiro,” Keith huffs before smiling at him again. “Well, I, uh—I mean, I always like spending time with you and already kinda assumed we’d hang out if you didn’t have a date, so. Why not, right? If it means getting people off your back and I have an excuse not to talk to random strangers about shit like dating, then I’m all for it.”

“Great,” Shiro says, and tries not to smile back too wide. Keith might look slightly nauseous when he’s pretending to be happier than he is, but Shiro has a tendency to exaggerate his own excitement until he looks deranged. “Just... great.”

He holds back another sigh. Shifting his relationship with Keith into something romantic has never been an option. Shiro’s known that for a long time. Yet hearing him so bluntly state the only circumstances under which he’d agree to go on a date with Shiro—it hurts. Far more than Shiro can afford to acknowledge, unless he wants to feel the burn of tears threatening to well up behind his eyelids.

“God, that really _is_ a great idea,” Keith murmurs half to himself while looking lost in thought, before he glances back to Shiro. “Can you imagine if people started asking for a dance or something tomorrow? Think I’d literally die if I had to deal with that if I didn’t even have an excuse to turn them down.”

“Hey, just not wanting to is a great excuse,” Shiro chuckles. “But yeah—I promise I’ll keep you safe from any and all unwanted suitors.”

Keith snorts and shakes his head. “Thanks, Prince Charming. Whatever would I do without you?”

“Guess you’ll never know,” Shiro promises, and his heart skips a beat at the sweet look on Keith’s face when he smiles back.

It’s _so_ hard to remind himself that it’s just Keith, his best friend, he’s talking to right now. Their banter is so natural, so familiar, and if it were anyone else, literally any other guy in the universe that Shiro wanted, he’d easily test the waters. Be more obvious in his flirting, cross a line that’s unmistakable, say something impossible to misinterpret.

But it is Keith. His best friend. And they’re just joking around, like they always do.

“So...” Keith says. “How about I pick you up at your place, like—around eight tomorrow night, then? And we can head back here together.”

Shiro smiles again, still a little too forcibly wide. “Yeah. Sure. Sounds perfect, buddy.”

“You got it, Captain.” Keith salutes him, then grins as he grabs another flat balloon and snaps it in Shiro’s direction. “Now let’s get the rest of these blown up so we can join the others for lunch already.” 

~

Shiro’s not stupid.

He knows that a fair amount of people find him attractive. While he can’t pretend he doesn’t notice the looks he’ll get if he pulls up his tank top to wipe off the sweat on his forehead when he’s in a public gym, Shiro would also like to consider himself a gentleman. He takes pride in his physical appearance because he works hard to maintain it, but he was raised to be polite and kind and anything but shallow.

Sure, he can be cocky when the situation calls for it—about his skills or accomplishments or body, but he still likes to sprinkle all of that with a heavy dose of humility. Showing off what he’s got or what he can do in the right situations isn’t the same as boasting or bragging or acting like he thinks he’s better than everyone else. He’s proud of the records he’s broken, but being the best at the specific things that he’s worked hard on doesn’t mean he’s ever found any joy in thinking he’s too good for anyone else.

Still, looking at himself in the full-length mirror in his hallway as he fixes the collar of his black shirt, he can’t help but think he looks _good._

A huge perk of needing to get anything he wears customized to fit the shoulder port of his prosthetic is that nowadays none of his clothes have ever fit better. The deep purple suit he’s wearing for the occasion is perfectly tailored to his body, snug in all the right places and making some of that humility Shiro likes to hold onto slip out of reach, just a bit.

It really _has_ been a long time since he did anything like this. And while he’s well aware that this isn’t a proper date, Shiro’s still looking forward to a night of fun with his best friend and the people he cares about. 

He’s got his hair done a little nicer than how he usually keeps it, and decided to forego shaving, instead trimming the edges of his dark stubble to make sure he looks neat enough for cocktail attire. It’s the first time since he can’t remember when that he’s really felt like straightening his back, checking out how great his ass looks in the mirror, and winking at his own reflection before heading out to sweep a man off his feet.

Almost enough for him to consider—

A knock on the door breaks him out of his thoughts, and Shiro’s breath shakes out of him as he takes one final look at himself, then goes to let Keith in.

“Keith,” he starts before the doors have even opened all the way, “you know you don’t have to kn—oh.”

The sight Shiro’s met with leaves him speechless.

If he was feeling a bit smugly confident about his own appearance, he’s got nothing on Keith’s beauty, even when Keith’s doing nothing but standing with his arms held behind his back on the other side of Shiro’s doorstep.

_No one_ has anything on Keith’s beauty.

Keith’s gorgeous, just in general. Always. Shiro’s well aware of that. He doesn’t doubt that other people notice it, isn’t actually surprised to hear how many men have tried to ask Keith out. But Shiro still feels a possessive kind of certainty that no one else in the whole universe could ever appreciate it the same way he does. Keith is the kind of devastatingly handsome that goes along perfectly with his personality—sharp jaw and pretty face, thick perfect eyebrows, big eyes with long lashes, soft-looking pink lips, and legs for days. He’s got a slender, lithe body with abs and strong thighs and big biceps that he could—would, has, and will—crush someone with if the situation calls for it.

Honestly, Shiro has to regularly remind himself not to outright ask Keith to step on him.

And that’s Keith on any given day.

Just casual, regular, everyday Keith. It’s the Keith who always wears pants so tight they’re like a second skin, and even his most comfy sweatpants look more like leggings. Who alternates between keeping his hair down or in a low, loose ponytail at the back of his neck, so long and soft-looking that Shiro just wants to bury his hands in it.

Casual, regular, everyday Keith takes Shiro’s breath away on—well, every single day.

But Shiro never could have prepared himself for the way Keith looks right now.

The burgundy button-up he’s wearing fits so perfectly Shiro almost worries for the buttons, given the way the fabric stretches over Keith’s chest. It’s tucked into—just as Shiro would’ve guessed—tight black pants with a sheen to them that makes Shiro’s knees buckle for a second because it reminds him of latex, and with a nice black leather belt low around his hips. His hair is in a loose side-braid, he’s got laced-up ten-hole combat boots on his feet, and to top it all off there’s a classic black bowtie around his neck.

Shiro’s never seen Keith wear anything like it before. The sight might be killing him a little. Or a lot.

It will be the nicest way Shiro’s ever died so far, though.

“Shiro?”

“Hm?” Shiro snaps his gaze back up to Keith’s face. “You, uh. You look good, Keith.”

“Oh.” Keith squirms a bit, hands still held behind his back as he flicks his gaze down his own body. “Thanks.”

“Your shirt is, um. That’s a nice shirt. Nice and...” Shiro trails off.

_Nice and tight. Just the way Shiro likes it._

Not really something he should say to his best friend.

“Yeah?” Keith chuckles a little awkwardly. “I got it from that store that just opened, you know, next to the donut place? I didn’t know what to—”

“It’s perfect.” Shiro almost laughs with him. As if he’s admiring the clothing on its own and not the way that shirt fits across Keith’s broad shoulders. Then he has to clear his throat, praying his ears aren’t going red from his blush. Of course Keith would only think he’s complimenting the outfit. In Keith’s eyes, Shiro has no reason to admire anything else. No matter how distracting Keith’s defined pecs are right now. “You—yeah, uh. You look very handsome.”

“Thanks,” Keith says again, and if Shiro’s not mistaken, his cheeks have gone a little pink. The sight makes him both want to tease Keith good-naturedly for it and almost feel a pang of sadness over how out of his element Keith seems. No one deserves to constantly hear how beautiful he is more than Keith, and if only Shiro were allowed to, he’d personally make sure to tell him all the time. He’d shower Keith in compliments every day for the rest of their lives if he could, until Keith got so used to hearing it that he’d never have to blush over it again.

Or maybe Keith would always keep blushing, just a bit, if Shiro was the one who said it. The same way he’ll still preen or squirm a little sometimes when Shiro praises him in every other platonic and acceptable way.

“You too,” Keith says. “I mean, your clothes. The suit. You look—you’re beautiful, Shiro.”

“Oh.” Shiro laughs and rubs his neck, and now he knows his ears are _definitely_ a blaring stoplight red. “Thank you, Keith.”

While he’s heard a lot of things about himself, it’s been a long time since he had a word of such earnest appreciation said to his face. Most compliments he receives amount to some variation of, _“whoa, dude—big muscles!”_ and he knows that Keith never lies.

But just because the compliment is heartfelt, it doesn’t mean what Shiro wants it to mean.

He knows that as well.

Surely they’re both going to be appreciating how beautiful many of their friends look tonight, and it won’t do him any good to pretend that this is more than what it is. Shiro’s the one who got them into this situation, for reasons that have felt increasingly ridiculous the longer he’s thought about it. How is pretending to date Keith for one night better than dealing with some of his crew nagging him to start dating? Or even having to turn down a couple of guys asking if he wants to dance or if Shiro wants a drink?

He should call this off. Right here, right now. Tell Keith that they won’t pretend to be going as anything other than friends and then—

“I got you these.” Keith pulls his hands out from behind his back, revealing a bouquet of red roses. 

Shiro stares, open-mouthed and wide-eyed.

“I—what?” he stammers. “Why? Keith, you shouldn’t have—”

“We’re supposed to be on a date, right?” Keith says, thrusting the bouquet a little more pointedly into Shiro’s arms. “Isn’t this what you do on dates?”

“Um. Right. But I—” Shiro finally takes the flowers, holding them in his Altean hand while stroking his left palm gently across the petals, still stunned. “Keith. These are so beautiful.”

And they really are. Every rose is huge and perfectly bloomed.

“Are you... _blushing_ right now, Shiro?”

Shiro flicks his gaze to Keith’s face and feels his blush deepen even _more._ “No! No, I just—honestly, I can’t even remember the last time I got flowers. I’m a little touched, is all.”

“Oh.”

At least that’s true. It really has been forever since Shiro got flowers that weren’t from some formal event or as a thank you for his universe-saving services. The last guy who even gave him flowers must have been Adam. For Shiro’s twenty-fifth birthday, maybe, or a month later when Adam was still pretending to be happy for him about Kerberos.

Shiro looks down at the roses, then smiles at Keith. “Thank you, Keith,” he says softly. “Seriously, this was really nice of you. Kinda feel like an ass now, though, since I didn’t get you anything.”

“What?” Keith gasps, mock-offended. Then he smirks and takes a step closer to Shiro, casually killing him again as he gets right up in Shiro’s personal space. “You didn’t get the guy you’re taking out on a date for Valentine’s Day anything? Where are your _manners,_ Captain?”

“I—” Shiro laughs, trying to cover up how flustered he is while once again reminding himself that it’s _Keith._ Whatever Shiro may or may not feel, most of the time he does know how to behave like a normal human around him. Even if he’s soul-crushingly, irrevocably, head-over-heels in love with him. 

And even if Keith—his best friend and love of his life—is jokingly pretending to flirt with him right now, Shiro _has_ swept a couple of guys off their feet in his life.

He knows how to play this game, too.

Finally collecting himself as good as he can, Shiro smiles and says, “Guess I’ll just have to figure out a way to make it up to you somehow then,” before he winks.

Keith snorts, hanging his head for a moment. “Um—right.” He looks at Shiro again with another small smile, and then turns thoughtful before he reaches for one of the roses and snaps it off below the bud.

“Keith! Don’t _ruin_ them—” Shiro stops short when Keith crowds in even closer. Squeezing the flowers tighter in his grip, Shiro’s thankful it’s his Altean hand he’s holding them in when he feels the prick of the thorns but it doesn’t hurt him.

No, what really hurts is how Keith is suddenly standing way too close. 

His face is inches from Shiro’s, they’re both dressed up to go on a date for Valentine’s Day, and Keith got Shiro _flowers._

It’s not humanly possible to fight off his thoughts about how badly he wants to close the space between them and press his lips to Keith’s mouth.

“I’m not ruining them,” Keith says gently and flicks his gaze to Shiro’s chest. “You’ve still got eleven roses left, right?” He reaches up with the rose he plucked and places it into Shiro’s breast pocket. “There. Now you really do look perfect.”

Keith smiles as he strokes his hand across the fabric of Shiro’s suit jacket and it’s getting more and more difficult for Shiro to remind himself of how they’re just _friends_ right now. He can’t think of many people in his life who would caress his chest platonically. Lance or Griffin, maybe, but that would still be with a starstruck expression on their face and, once again, more or less amount to ‘ _whoa, dude—big muscles’._ Definitely nothing like the kind of careful, lingering touch combined with the softly affectionate look on Keith’s face right now.

But Keith can’t—?

No.

No, no, _no._ Shiro’s been down that road too many times before, turned it over in his mind, examined it to the point of exhaustion and heartbreak. It’s _not_ how Keith feels about him, and that’s—that’s completely okay. Shiro loves Keith just as he is, and he loves what they are to each other.

He’s always been the person Keith trusts the most, and it’s a privilege and honour to be loved and cared for so deeply by him. There’s nothing that could be worth the risk of ruining that between them. Shiro’s not going to break Keith’s trust or take advantage of his affection by imposing his own stupid feelings on him.

Keith’s already done so much for him. He’s given Shiro _so much._

More than Shiro would’ve ever asked for. Keith’s proven again and again that he will put Shiro’s well-being above his own, no matter what extremes he is forced to take it to. And while that only makes Shiro love him even more, this is a mess that Shiro has to suck up and deal with on his own—Keith won’t be saving him this time.

Shiro forces himself to break their stare, looking down at the flowers, and then snaps off another rose. “Then you should have one, too. So we’ll be matching.”

“Oh.” Keith glances down at his own shirt. “But I don’t have a—”

“Wait, hang on. Here.” Shiro hands the single rose to Keith before turning away and heading towards the kitchen. He sighs a breath of relief with each step he takes further away from Keith, even though every cell in his body tells him to turn around, stalk right back and sweep Keith up in his arms, then dip him low and kiss him hard with all the stored up passion in his soul.

Instead he opens a cupboard and quickly puts the flowers in a vase with water, before walking back at a normal speed. Like a normal human being, with nothing but normal, platonic feelings for his best friend and brother-in-arms.

_God,_ how bad Shiro wishes Keith really would be in his arms.

“Sorry.” Shiro smiles as he stops in front of Keith again and takes the rose back from him. “Just put the flowers away. Don’t want them to wilt while we’re away.”

“Ah. Well, uh—I still don’t have a pocket on this thing.”

“No, you—” Shiro makes the mistake of reaching up to smooth his hand across Keith’s right pec, the same way Keith had done to him. Because he’s an absolute idiot. A thirsty, smitten moron. There’s no extra layer of a suit between Shiro’s fingers and the thin fabric of Keith’s shirt stretched taut over his chest and, indeed, no breast pocket. “Um.” Shiro moves his hand to Keith’s shoulder, gently nudging him to the side instead.

Keith turns, even though he glances questioningly at Shiro.

Shiro gives him another smile and lifts his Altean hand to Keith’s hair, smoothing his fingers down his braid before taking hold of it in his palm. Careful not to ruin anything, Shiro gently puts the rose into Keith’s hair, near the top of where the braid starts. Then he wiggles the short stem up through and back down into the braid, making sure the flower sits securely in place.

“There you go,” Shiro says softly once he’s done, stepping back to admire his work. “Now we both look perfect. Almost feels like we’re going to prom or something.”

Keith laughs, pink-cheeked as he starts to lift his hand before he thinks better of it and drops it without touching his braid. The red rose contrasts beautifully with his black hair, and he really _does_ look perfect; all set to go on a date and have an incredible night.

Shiro feels another pang of longing strike through his chest before guilt settles in to gnaw at his heart like a sour aftertaste.

So maybe the real reason Shiro doesn’t want to call this off, no matter how ridiculous he knows it is, goes beyond the fact that it’s play pretend of what is probably his biggest dream in life right now. Maybe Shiro really just is so selfish that he likes the fact that if Keith goes with him, even as a friend, then he couldn’t have been asked by someone else who made Keith reconsider. If Keith goes with Shiro, even as friends, he’s not going with anyone else as _more_ than friends.

“We should probably get going, right?” Keith says. He’s still smiling at Shiro, completely clueless to the fact that Shiro’s being the most awful friend in the whole universe right now.

Then he holds up his arm, and Shiro stares at it in confusion for a moment before he realizes what Keith’s doing.

“Yeah,” Shiro says. He smiles back, and like the most awful friend there is, takes Keith’s offered arm.

~

“So how long do you think it’s gonna take before someone calls bullshit?” Keith says while they’re walking down one of the long hallways of the ATLAS. They quickly switched to him holding Shiro’s arm instead, since Keith is shorter, and Shiro keeps sneaking glances down at where Keith’s fingers are curled around him.

He never used to think of himself as having a _type,_ really, but with Keith, Shiro can’t get over their difference in both height and size. For all of Keith’s muscles and strength and the fact that he’s the largest presence in Shiro’s life, taking up the biggest space in his heart, Keith is smaller in a way Shiro can’t stop thinking about. His mind often drifts off to it—whether he’s alone, or they’re sparring and Shiro pins Keith in place beneath his own big body, or if Keith pins _him_ in place and Shiro has to make sure their hips don’t get too close so he won’t mortify them both.

And right now, simply being next to him, Shiro’s embarrassingly aware of how small Keith’s hand looks like this, resting on his forearm.

So maybe he has to admit he has a bit of a _thing_ for this.

At least when it comes to Keith.

“I give it two minutes,” Shiro says after a long pause. “Then Veronica’s gonna blow our cover.”

“What?” Keith stops in his tracks, only stumbling forward because Shiro keeps walking. The grip on Shiro’s arm tightens as Keith regains his balance and Shiro’s mind zeroes in on where they’re touching, Keith’s fingers gently squeezing. Keith’s always been easily affectionate with him, happily accepted any hugs Shiro has pulled him into since the first time he clasped hands with a 17-year-old Keith and tugged him in for one. There’s no denying how different everything feels like this, though, with Keith’s hand on his arm like he’s being properly courted in something straight out of a romance novel.

_“Two minutes?”_ Keith says. “And then one of the main targets for this mission is going to figure it out?”

“Please don’t say it like you’re planning on eliminating Veronica if things don’t go as planned, Keith.” Shiro laughs as they finally round the corner of the long hallway leading to the ATLAS’ ballroom. So far the events held in it have been more formal, diplomatic gatherings, but it’s the perfect size for any party. The huge sliding doors already stand open, the bass of the music and the indistinct murmur of voices increasing in volume the closer they get. Shiro says, “I’m just not sure how easy it’s going to be to trick our closest friends into believing we’re suddenly a couple, you know?”

_Couple._

The word feels so right to say, it’s painful.

“Wanna make a bet?”

Shiro’s the one who stops walking then, looking at Keith with a raised eyebrow. “Oh?” he says, intrigued. “A bet?”

Keith—well. Shiro’s not exactly sure how he would describe the expression Keith gets at the possibility of a challenge. There’s determination and happiness clear on his face but a spark in his eyes that makes it far more feral than any excited grin Shiro would expect to see on someone fully human.

“Yeah,” Keith says, doing his probably-Galra-feral smirk, wide enough for a hint of his canines to show. _“I_ bet Pidge figures it out first.”

“Okay,” Shiro says slowly. “So what are the rules?”

Keith turns thoughtful, a moment of silence stretching as he considers. “Obviously we can’t ruin things for each other. This is a team effort.”

“Obviously,” Shiro says, unable to hold back his own grin.

“If Pidge figures it out, I lose, and if Veronica figures it out, you lose.”

“What? How does that make sense?”

“Because if Veronica figures it out then you weren’t convincing enough!”

Shiro laughs again, still not sure he’s following the logic of this bet. It does sound fun, though, and it’ll give him an excuse not to think about how silly his own reasons for pretending to date Keith still feel.

“You realize this means I’m gonna have to up my charm, right?” Shiro says with a playful twinkle in his eyes—because Keith is apparently the one person that makes his carefully honed skills of staying patient and thinking before he acts go up in smoke. “Really lay it on thick with the PDA.”

“Yeah?” Keith gives him an unimpressed stare. Then he smirks back and tugs Shiro closer by the hold on his arm while turning towards him before reaching up and touching the flower on Shiro’s chest. “The guy who didn’t give his best bro anything for our Valentine’s fake date is going to be _romantic?_ I’m already way ahead of you, Shirogane.”

Shiro fumbles for words again, flustered in a way he’s really not used to feeling. No matter how hot a guy is, however charmed he’s been, Shiro’s still always known how to behave. Even when he _hasn’t_ been sure deep down what to do, he’s at least known how to cover that up and act like he’s totally got it all under control. That’s—that’s his thing. Keeping it together and knowing what to say is what Shiro _does._

Yet here he is, continuing to blush and stammer because his beautiful not-fully-human best friend has a mean streak that makes Keith go a little feral and act lowkey horny at the thought of winning a bet.

“You know what?” Shiro says, and gives what he hopes is a smile confident enough to fool even Keith. “You’re on, Kogane.”

“Great.” Keith grins back, the two of them ending up stuck smiling at each other for a moment, before Keith opens his mouth. He closes it again without saying anything, though, and instead digs his teeth into his bottom lip. It’s an unfairly eye-catching sight. “Shiro—um. Wait.”

“What’s up?” Shiro furrows his brows while Keith searches for the right words for whatever’s on his mind.

“Do you—”

“Shiro! Keith!”

They both turn forward and see Veronica hurrying down the hall from the ballroom towards them with a grin.

Shiro straightens his posture while Keith slides his hand so far around Shiro’s forearm they’re practically linking arms.

“There you guys are!” Veronica stops in front of them, still smiling wide.

“Good evening, Veronica,” Shiro says and smiles back just as wide as he takes in her outfit. “You’re looking exceptionally lovely tonight, Officer McClain.”

They’re not actively fighting a war anymore, but Shiro’s still used to seeing his crew in Garrison outfits most of the time, even the people he counts among his close friends. Veronica’s stunning, from her hair and makeup to the white blazer she’s wearing, left unbuttoned to show off the fancy pink bralette underneath. It’s as much of a different sight as Shiro must make compared to while they’re working at the bridge of the ATLAS.

“Why, thank you, Captain,” Veronica says with the smile of someone who was already fully aware of that but is still happy to accept the compliment. “So do both of you, leaders of the forces defending the universe! Nice to finally see you let your hairs down. So to speak. That suit is _smoking_ on you, sir.” Then she turns to Keith and studies him appreciatively for a lingering moment before giving a low whistle. _“Love_ the bowtie. And the rose is adorable. Goes perfectly with those sexy pants. Mreow.”

Veronica winks at Keith and Shiro doesn’t think—he pulls his arm back from Keith’s hold and wraps it around Keith’s shoulders instead, tugging him up against his side.

“Thanks.” Shiro forces himself to smile, to stay polite, while reminding himself that Veronica is a close and trusted friend that he loves dearly. “Sorry we’re a little late n—”

“We’re on a date,” Keith cuts him off and then gets both of his own arms around Shiro’s waist, holding him back in a sideways hug.

“Alright, cool,” Veronica says with another bright smile and gives them a nod. “Hate to ask you to go mingle, but seriously, c’mon! Can’t _wait_ for you guys to see what we all did with the place.”

Then she’s off again, twirling around and heading back to the party before either of them can say anything else.

Shiro gapes after her while still also trying to process how he’s currently being cradled in Keith’s arms. “That, uh—” he says and shakes his head. “That went a little easier than expected.”

“Yeah.” Keith tilts his head, a furrow forming between his brows. “That was weird. 

“Uh-huh. But, uh—what were you going to say?”

“What?”

“Before Veronica showed up. You were saying something.” 

“Oh.” Keith frowns for a moment before he lets go of Shiro and steps back. “Huh.” He shrugs and then smiles. “Must’ve forgotten. Now let’s get in there, Captain. I have a bet to win and I guess now we _really_ gotta make sure we fool Pidge.”

He grabs Shiro’s arm again and starts walking, dragging him along towards the doors before Shiro has a chance to object.

~

While they both helped with preparations, neither of them got to see the finished result before the party started, and now Shiro smiles as he takes in the room with Keith standing next to him.

Everyone’s done a really great job—the MFE’s, the Paladins, the bridge crew, anyone willing and excited to help get this ready in the past weeks since Nadia and Veronica first got the idea.

Keith’s big red banner hangs high above the modest stage that’s located in the center at the end of the room, balloons and confetti and various decorations spread out all over as well. The stage has mostly been used for speeches since the ATLAS was born, but tonight there’s an old white piano and a mic placed there, just waiting for someone brave enough to give a performance. 

Or, perhaps more likely, drunk enough to embarrass themselves after too many drinks.

A long row of tables placed along one of the walls is filled with bowls of snacks and alcohol-free punch. There’s also an open bar, which Coran graciously offered to tend after a three hour long dramatic retelling about the time he and his old band members got stuck on—what he called— _a neverending party frenzy planet_ in their youth. Shiro’s pretty sure that mixing human drinks, with human alcohol, for a crowd where the majority of the people are humans, might be a little different from anything Coran has experience with. The joy and enthusiasm with which Coran wants to help always makes it hard to turn him down, though, even in the politest ways. And watching him currently stand behind the bar, clad in a frilly vest while effortlessly juggling five bottles of some of the finest wine you can find on planet Earth, Shiro can’t regret the decision.

Coran does some complicated move with the bottles, tossing them high in the air at the same time as he does a pirouette, and then throws one arm out. He catches each bottle as it comes back down in his free hand, tossing it up on his shoulder and letting it slide down his outstretched arm before it lands safe and sound on the bar. Shiro stares open-mouthed while Coran bows deeply once he’s done, the people gathered around the bar all applauding.

Keith laughs softly next to him. “Okay, I admit, that’s really freakin’ cool.”

“Coran does surprise us every now and then,” Shiro says and looks at Keith. “And I’m always surprised when I’m surprised. We really should all know better by now, right?”

Keith chuckles again, some strands of his long bangs escaping his braid and falling into his face. Shiro reaches up to stroke them back before he can think better of it, carefully tucking them behind Keith’s ear. He lets his fingers linger, trailing them down Keith’s braid again to touch the rose there.

“Sorry,” Shiro says and drops his hand when he realizes what he’s doing, how wide Keith’s eyes have gone at the gesture. “I—I’m making it weird, aren’t I?”

“What? No.” Keith shakes his head with another chuckle. “Of course not. We, uh. I mean, we’re doing this, right?”

“Yeah.” Shiro laughs too. “Like you said—gotta convince Pidge. Just—I don’t want you to feel awkward.”

Keith pulls back to stare at him, a disbelieving look on his face even though he smiles. “You think you’re so charming it’ll get awkward just because you, like, graced your fingers against my cheek?”

“Uh—”

“I’m not one of the cadets swooning over you, Shirogane,” Keith adds. “I’m not gonna be that easy, sir.”

Shiro’s face goes red again as he hurries out a, “Right,” and swallows thickly. Of course he doesn’t think it’d be easy to charm Keith. He’s the one man Shiro’s ever wanted that he’s known he can’t have. “I’m sorry, I—”

“Oh my god, don’t _apologize.”_ Keith laughs. “Would you relax already? You promised you’d have fun tonight. And just so you know, if you wanna win this bet—you really suck at this whole PDA thing.”

“What?” Shiro stares at him in disbelief. “What do you mean I suck at—?”

“If Veronica had figured it out, it definitely would’ve been on you.”

“Wh— _how,_ Keith? I held you in my arms!”

“Well, so did Lance once,” Keith mutters. “Did that make everyone suddenly think we were star-crossed lovers or something?”

“That’s not—” 

“You got all tense and weird.”

“No, but—” Shiro huffs out a breath. “Okay. Well. _I_ thought it was pretty quick thinking over someone hitting on my boyfriend.”

“Shiro.” Keith stares back like that’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard. “She was not hitting on me.”

“Keith.” Shiro laughs in surprise. “What the hell did you think that was?”

“You think she would’ve just been like _‘alright, cool’_ if she was hitting on me two seconds before we told her?” Keith mutters. “She said you looked nice too! Might as well have been hitting on you, then.”

“Her gay boss?”

“Then why would she be hitting on _me?_ Anyway, I’m pretty sure I heard her say she’s got a girl she’s going with tonight.

“Hm.” Shiro squints his eyes, still suspicious, but there’s not much else he can say without giving away too much of his real feelings. 

“And don’t change the subject,” Keith says. “This was about how much you suck at acting. I wanna win this bet fairly and we both said we wouldn’t cheat.”

“I’m not cheating,” Shiro says, then reaches for Keith’s hand and tugs him closer. Keith stumbles forward half a step and Shiro lifts his free hand to stroke the back of his knuckles down Keith’s jaw. Putting two fingertips under Keith’s chin, Shiro tilts Keith’s face up so he can look him in the eyes when he murmurs, “If you really won’t mind, I’m gonna be so good at this that you _do_ think it’s weird.”

Keith blinks at him for another stunned moment before he laughs. His gaze flicks to the side, but there’s nowhere for him to go when Shiro still has his hand on Keith’s chin.

“I told you,” Keith says and looks back at him. “There’s nothing you can do to make it weird around me.”

“Really?” Shiro says, smirking while leaning in closer so he’s practically towering over Keith, the way he would’ve been doing if he was trying to come on strongly at any other guy.

“Not—not over a bet.” Keith laughs. 

“You sure?” Shiro raises an eyebrow, but Keith just huffs.

“I mean, unless you, like, tried to kiss me or something.”

Shiro drops the hand on Keith’s face, punched in the heart by those words, and heat flushes his cheeks red again.

“Of course I wouldn’t _kiss you—”_

“What are you guys doing?”

Shiro barely holds back his yelp while taking half a step back as Pidge pops up right in front of them. Keith trips with him, ending up close against his side and then staying pressed there as they both stare at Pidge.

“Um.” Shiro blinks while Pidge squints their eyes behind their pink-tinted huge glasses.

“What are you _wearing?”_ Keith says.

“Hah! I look great, right?” Pidge says and backs away from their personal space just to give them a dramatic little twirl.

“You—yeah, you do,” Keith says, nothing but sincere earnesty in his voice. “Pretty bold choice for a dance. I respect that.”

It’s a very Pidge choice for an outfit—whereas most everyone else around them is in a sparkly dress, a polished suit, or snug button-up, Pidge is wearing casual jeans and a huge orange dress shirt, untucked and buttoned all the way up to the neck.

“Thanks.” Pidge pushes their pink glasses up the bridge of their nose. “Borrowed the shirt from Hunk. And check it out—it has buttons, so it’s totally formal.”

Shiro chuckles. “Well, you really do look great, Pidge.”

“You too, guys.” Pidge bounces back on the heels of their feet, then squints their eyes again. “Sooo... here on a date, huh?”

“Wow.” Shiro can’t help but be impressed. “Word really does travel fast on this ship.”

“I mean, you’re also holding _hands,_ so.”

“Um—right.” Shiro fights the instinct to drop his hold on Keith’s hand like he’s been caught doing something forbidden, instead tightening his grip. “We—”

“That’s a little too much of a hit over the head for anyone to miss, even for you two.”

“Even for—? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” Pidge grins, “that I have a reason to celebrate.”

“I—what?” Shiro repeats when Pidge starts to walk away. “Pidge!”

“Congrats again, you guys!” Pidge waves over their shoulder with their back to them.

“What just happened?” Keith finally mutters once Pidge is out of sight.

“I think,” Shiro murmurs, reluctantly easing up on his grip on Keith’s hand and letting go now when they don’t have an audience anymore, “that we’re both in a tie over that bet.”

“Hmpf.” Keith frowns. “Okay. So who’s your next guess?”

“What?”

“Who do you think actually figures it out?”

“Uh.” Shiro rummages through his head. He definitely thought more people would at least have acted way more surprised about this by now, if not outright questioned it. “Allura’s always been perceptive?” 

“Mm.” Keith nods, once again with that look of determination on his face. “No way in hell Lance is gonna believe I’m dating anyone, let alone you.”

Shiro frowns. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, god, here we go.” Keith’s eyes widen as he stares off into the distance, looking like his soul just left his body. Reluctant as he is to switch the subject, Shiro still follows his gaze, only to see Griffin stumbling across the stage to where Kinkade’s sitting down at the piano. Next second Griffin’s climbing into Kinkade’s lap, straddling him on the piano stool, before they start wildly making out.

“...Well,” Shiro says. “No surprises there.”

“Why do they _always_ do this?” Keith sounds so baffled that Shiro glances at him in question. “I mean—not that I care. If they wanna suck face in public, good for them. I just don’t get it. They don’t even hold hands or anything around people when they’re sober. You wouldn’t even know they’re a couple.”

Shiro shrugs. “Maybe they’re not.”

“What?”

“Maybe they’re not actually, y’know, a _couple?”_

Keith gives him a confused look. “You think they just fuck whenever they get drunk and then go back to normal after?”

“I—um,” Shiro coughs and then chuckles. “I’ll admit I hadn’t thought about it in that much detail, buddy. Wouldn’t really be the weirdest thing imaginable, though, would it?”

“No, not—” Keith rolls his eyes before he laughs too. “I didn’t mean the—the whole friends with benefits part, or whatever. Obviously.”

“Then, what?” Shiro raises an eyebrow, hoping he only sounds teasing when he says, “You got a thing for Kinkade or something and now you’re jealous of Griffin?”

_“No.”_ Keith huffs. “I mean, sure, he’s cute. And nice. And _tall,_ but—”

Shiro doesn’t hear whatever Keith says next.

_Keith likes tall guys?_

Shiro’s tall. Shiro is very, very tall. If Keith likes tall guys, going by that alone, Shiro should be his dream man.

If it’s height that Keith’s after, he should be climbing Shiro like a tree right this second.

Kind of like Griffin is currently doing to Kinkade.

“Shiro?”

“Huh?” Shiro blinks. “Oh, yeah, for sure.”

“Wh—really?”

“I’m sorry,” Shiro hurries out when he sees the shocked expression on Keith’s face. “What did you say?”

“I said it just sounds so weird when they’re, like, best friends. Everyone knows that. Right?” Keith still looks confused, so Shiro nods for him to continue. “So—doing _that,_ and then going back to normal after. Could you do that?”

“Oh. Oh!” Shiro glances back at the stage, watching as Kinkade shoves his hands in under Griffin’s shirt, and blurts out, “You mean with you?” 

“I—no!” Keith stares at him in horror. “Or—I mean, yeah, I guess, but—” He cuts himself off, shaking his head. “Obviously we’re nothing like that.”

“Obviously,” Shiro agrees with a strangled laugh. He turns his head and keeps his eyes trained on where Kinkade and Griffin are practically grinding on each other by now. It’s far from his top choice for a view, but Shiro would take anything at this point to hopefully help him hide his blush from Keith.

“But… could you?” Keith says, continuing the conversation because clearly whoever’s in charge of the universe hates Shiro with a burning passion. “Just, the whole thing. Is this another one of those human things I’m too Galra to wrap my head around or something?”

“I—no.” Shiro huffs out a laugh, despite how flustered he is by the turn of topic. “No, I don’t think so, I…” He pauses, weighing his words, trying to find some way to answer honestly without giving away too much and baring his soul. “I guess it depends. With a casual friend, maybe, sure.”

“Yeah?”

“But not… I mean, if it was with my best friend, I’d never wanna mess things up like that.” Shiro dares to glance at Keith again to give him a reassuring smile, but Keith isn’t looking back. Watching Keith’s profile, Shiro swallows thickly before he says, “If we were that close I think I’d just wanna be with him. So that’d, um—that would obviously make things awkward. If both of us didn’t feel the same way.”

Keith stares forward for another moment so Shiro turns back too, just in time to see Allura push a mortified Hunk across the stage. Hunk stumbles forward, holding his hands behind his back as he approaches the two-man show on the piano stool, toeing around them while seemingly trying to figure out a delicate way to break things up.

“Yeah,” Keith finally murmurs. “I think that’s how I feel too.” He finally looks at Shiro with a soft smile, and Shiro licks his lips.

“Keith—”

“Takashi,” Iverson’s voice cuts through the music, and he nods as he approaches them. “Captain Takashi Shirogane.”

“Oh. Good evening, sir.” Shiro puts on a smile, still flustered enough that he can barely find it in himself to be annoyed over how Iverson still can’t pronounce his name right, even after all these years.

“You’re looking sharp tonight, Captain,” Iverson says, a beat passing before Shiro’s brain even registers those words. “That suit fits well over your—it compliments your—your broad—I mean, the whole area wh—oh, _christ.”_

“S-sir?” Shiro stares, mouth agape, while Iverson huffs out a breath and takes a deep, _deep_ drink from his glass.

“This isn’t—” Iverson grimaces and shakes his head. “Y’know what? I’m gettin’ out of here. Forget this ever happened, both of you. Enjoy your night, Captain.” He gives Shiro another sharp nod, refusing to look him in the eyes, before turning to Keith and adding as an afterthought, “Paladin.”

As soon as Iverson has his back to them, Keith slaps both palms over his own mouth while Shiro’s jaw is on the floor.

“What the _fuck?”_ Shiro hisses under his breath, then snaps his head to glare at Keith when he hears the small snorts starting to leave him. “Not a word, Keith!” 

That just makes Keith _lose it,_ and he breaks into a fit of giggles until there are tears in his eyes.

“Oh, you really _are_ such a snack that _everyone_ wants a bite, huh, _sir?”_ Keith wheezes, practically doubling over, until Shiro has to take it upon himself to subtly usher them closer to the wall. He does his best to hide Keith behind the sheer mass of his own body, lest someone catches sight and wonders what in the world the Black Paladin finds so incredibly hilarious. 

It takes another moment before Keith finally straightens up, planting one palm on Shiro’s chest to steady himself while wiping at the corners of his eyes with his free hand.

“Or should I say,” Keith hiccups another laugh and curls his fingers tight in the lapels of Shiro’s suit, “everyone wants a bite, Captain _Takeshi Scheeruhgeyni?”_

“He was—I’m sure he was just trying to be nice!”

“Oh, I agree,” Keith keeps giggling, “he seemed _very_ friendly, Shiro.”

“I bet he just doesn’t know how to compliment someone,” Shiro says, blushing furiously.

“Or flirt.”

_“Keith.”_ Shiro sways closer, desperately wanting to tuck himself against the crook of Keith’s neck and hide there forever. Not necessarily only because Iverson might have, _maybe,_ just tried to flirt with him, but. Right now it’s a big reason for it.

“Didn’t realize just how serious you were about needing a fake date to stop everyone from flocking around you.” Keith grins and tugs on Shiro’s lapels, as if he doesn’t already have Shiro’s undivided attention—no matter how horrifying this conversation might be. “What a miracle you’re even single, Captain.” 

Shiro does lean forward at that, placing one palm against the wall to steady himself before ducking down to rest his forehead on Keith’s shoulder. “Stop being mean to me, Keith,” he whines.

“Aww, it’s okay, you big baby,” Keith teases and puts both hands on Shiro’s waist while trying to tamper down the last of the chuckles still escaping him. Shiro pulls back enough to look at him, his heartbeat stuttering in his chest over how close they are now, with Keith holding him this way while boxed in against the wall by Shiro’s body. 

Then Keith reaches up and takes Shiro’s free hand in his own before he tangles their fingers together, and Shiro’s pretty sure his heart stops beating altogether. “Don’t worry, Shiro,” Keith says and gives his hand a reassuring squeeze. “You’ve got your boyfriend with you to protect you tonight. Right?”

He doesn’t know if it’s because he’s in a new body, or if it’s simply been so long since he was intimate with another man, or if it really _is_ just Keith who has that effect on him, but Shiro feels more flustered by the simple touch than the first time he got undressed in front of a guy.

He wants to hold hands with Keith forever.

“I—yeah,” Shiro says and then forces himself to straighten up, half-turning towards the dancefloor instead so he won’t get caught up in being so close to Keith. “Lucky me.”

“Hey.” Keith squeezes his hand once more before dropping his hold, making Shiro look back at him. There’s a softer smile on Keith’s face, but he still manages to look ridiculously amused. “Would you—maybe like a drink? To, uh. Deal with everything?”

“Yes!” Shiro says, a little too enthusiastically. “Yeah. Please. Thanks.”

Keith huffs out another laugh, rolling his eyes good-naturedly before he heads for the bar. Shiro exhales deeply, and doesn’t even consider to go with him. Instead he watches Keith until he disappears in the crowd, then takes a moment to wipe his left palm down his suit jacket before curling his fingers into a fist. The feeling of being clammy all over is neverending tonight, and his skin still tingles like he’s never held Keith’s palm in his own before.

This is starting to feel more and more like a high school dance, like Shiro really _is_ that embarrassing teen with an unrequited crush, the longer they’re here.

God.

He needs to get his shit together. Remember how to act normal already, so he can get through this night while doing—whatever the hell it is they’re doing.

“Captain!”

A hand clasps his shoulder and Shiro turns around, coming face-to-face with Kinkade. It’s unusual for Shiro to _literally_ be face-to-face with someone, but Ryan’s almost the same height as him. _‘And tall,’_ Keith’s dreamy voice immediately echoes in his mind, and Shiro desperately wishes someone would spray him in the face with cold water or something so his stupid brain could _knock it off._

“Hey there, Kinkade,” Shiro says as cheerfully as he can muster and subtly flicks his gaze around. Griffin doesn’t seem to be with him, though. “Thought you were, um—busy.”

“Ah.” Kinkade clears his throat and withdraws his hand from Shiro’s shoulder. “Ehrm. Not at the moment, no.”

“So what’s up?” Shiro smiles.

Kinkade watches him for a moment, raising the glass in his other hand to take a sip from the pink drink he’s holding. “You always think something needs to be up for people to talk to you, Captain? Even at parties?”

Shiro opens his mouth, then closes it again. He could so easily give long explanations about how, yes, he _is_ that used to people always having something of importance to discuss with him. Even at parties, since almost all of the ones Shiro has been to in the past year have been formal events. “Sorry,” he settles for instead. Ryan might be the kind of easy-going, quiet type that Shiro has always had an easy time bonding with, but there’s no need to be the boring boss and bring up any of these things right now. “You having fun tonight?”

Kinkade chuckles softly, half to himself. “Yeah. Sure. Can’t complain.”

“Hm.” Shiro nods, wishing he had a drink of his own to have something to do with his hands. He glances out across the room as the music turns more upbeat, couples and groups of people filling the dancefloor.

He spots Lance, Matt, and N-7 standing at the edge of the dance floor, appearing to be in some sort of heated conversation. Lance makes eye contact with him, glaring at Shiro with a murderous expression while shoving a fistful of cash into Matt’s hands. Matt throws his head back from his laughter and clutches N-7’s shoulder, but before Shiro can wonder too much about what’s going on, Kinkade interrupts his thoughts.

“So... you and Keith, huh?”

“What? Oh.” Shiro looks back at Kinkade, putting on another smile and hoping he isn’t visibly blushing again. “Yeah. Yep. Me and Keith.”

“About time, Captain!” Kinkade grins and gives Shiro’s upper arm a friendly slap. “Congrats.”

“About time?” Shiro asks, raising his eyebrows.

“Trust me, I definitely know what it’s like to fall for your best friend.” Kinkade chuckles and cocks his head to the left before glancing away for a moment. Shiro follows his gaze, finally spotting Griffin at the opposite end of the room. He’s standing with Ina and Nadia, talking to some of the crew that Shiro’s ashamed to realize he doesn’t know the names of yet. “Not always the easiest thing to deal with, right? Nice to see you guys have finally worked it all out.”

Shiro swallows as he looks back at Kinkade, then tries to do what he does best—redirect the attention. “I didn’t know you and Griffin were, um. Official.”

“Oh. Yeah. We’ve been dating for like eight months now. James just doesn’t know that I know about it.”

Shiro startles out a laugh at that, holding up a hand to his mouth to cover it up. “God, sorry. That’s—”

“It’s all good.” Kinkade grins, taking another sip of his drink before leaning in like he’s about to share another secret. “I mean, sure, he might pretend he has to get drunk to be brave enough to make out with me, but... we’ve still only had from the bowl of punch tonight, and that’s just—soda. So.”

Shiro snorts, but then has to bite his bottom lip as his thoughts stray back to what he talked about with Keith. He glances around to make sure Keith isn’t anywhere nearby yet, before saying, “Aren’t you—doesn’t that worry you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like... for your friendship’s sake?”

“Why would it?”

“I—well, what if you don’t want the same things?” Shiro can’t stop himself, because there are _so many_ reasons for why it should worry someone. “Or what if one of you changes his mind and then things get weird and you can never go back to how it was before? What if—what if you hadn’t even felt the same way when you made the first move and then you had to realize you’d messed things up with your favourite person in the whole universe?”

He snaps his mouth shut, holding his breath while cursing himself. _Damn it._ So much for not getting distracted by how easy Kinkade is to talk to. He feels his face heat, _really_ wishing he had that drink now.

Kinkade simply studies him for another long moment, though, before he shrugs. “Nope,” he says easily like he’s never even thought about it like that before. “It’s because he’s my best friend I’m _not_ worried, y’know? I know we’ll be fine, no matter what. Sure, I might’ve wondered what he’d think before I knew he felt the same, but—he wouldn’t do shit just to hurt me. So I’m cool with it if he needs some time. I’d rather he’d drunkenly planted one on me that first time he kissed me than been too scared to make a move at all, because then I never would’ve known he feels the same, since he was damn good at hiding it... so it’s not like _I_ had any plans on doing anything. Which—makes me the one who’s not all that brave, maybe. If you think about it.”

“Oh.”

“Sorry, that—” Kinkade chuckles and shakes his head. “Um, that got long-winded. Wish I hadn’t admitted I’m not drunk so I could’ve blamed _this_ on that.”

“No, no,” Shiro hurries out. “Thanks for telling me. Seriously, I appreciate it.” He pauses, a beat of silence stretching between them before he says, “You really didn’t know Griffin felt that way about you?”

_“No_ idea,” Kinkade says with another small laugh, looking young and cute in a way Shiro really isn’t used to seeing many of the crew members on his ship, all bashful while thinking about the guy he likes. Despite his own personal drama, Shiro smiles back, the reminder of what a good life they’re all living now—all things considered—making him feel all warm and fuzzy inside. “And he didn’t know that I liked him either, so.”

Shiro blinks. “He didn’t know? But he still...?”

“Yup. Like I said, I know just how difficult it can be to get your shit together with these things.”

“Right. That’s—me too. I mean,” Shiro rambles, “it’s just, it’s funny, because that’s exactly what happened with me and Keith. That’s what I did. I didn’t know he felt the same, but then I decided to just… go for it.”

“Can’t say I’m surprised.” Kinkade smiles.

“No?” Shiro forces himself not to tug at his own collar, but he kind of wishes ATLAS wasn’t dormant for technical maintenance tonight so he could just ask her to have the floor swallow him whole. She’s joked in the past about it being his right as the Captain to simply vanish from tense situations, so he’s sure she wouldn’t have minded creating a distraction.

“I know I can be, uh—well, I don’t talk a lot. Usually.” Kinkade glances over his shoulder at Griffin again. “But James always just gets me anyway, somehow, you know? Bet Keith’s kinda like that too. With you, I mean. So… guess we’re both really lucky to have found guys who understand us, even when we don’t spell everything out.”

He raises his glass and gives Shiro a wink, and then he’s walking away again before Shiro can make his brain work enough to reply.

“Did—Ryan just flirt with you?”

Shiro startles as Keith shows up next to him with two drinks in his hands. He quickly grabs one of them, eagerly downing it in one go. _“Fuck,_ that’s strong,” he wheezes under his breath once the glass is empty, trying not to cough. “What the hell, Keith?”

“Yeah, that—uh, that one was mine, I think you kinda need to not be all human to appreciate the burn.” Keith watches him in bewilderment while Shiro nods to confirm that suspicion. “Are you okay?”

“Of course I’m okay.” Shiro coughs to clear his throat, blinking at the tears in his eyes, then gets his left arm around Keith’s waist to pull him up close against his side again. “How are _you,_ boyfriend? Best friend. Best friend who’s pretending to be my boyfriend.”

“Oh—I, uh, well—I dunno what’s going on with everyone but Hunk just thanked me for getting him $50. Other than that I’m fine.” Keith drinks from the glass in his hand, and Shiro glances at it while telling himself it’d be rude to ask for a sip from that one as well to get something other than the taste of liquefied fire in his mouth. “This thing’s actually working, you know.”

“What thing?”

“This thing. Us.” Keith points a finger between them before he gets his free arm around Shiro’s waist, holding him back too. “Guy was coming onto me at the bar, wanted to buy me a drink. All I had to do was tell him I don’t think Captain Shirogane would be very happy to see his date with someone else. Poor guy looked so horrified I almost couldn’t stop myself from laughing.” Keith clinks his glass against Shiro’s empty one. “So thank you for your services, sir.”

“Ah—hah. I see.” Shiro tightens his grip around Keith’s waist and tugs him closer, just a little. It’d be far from appropriate to ask for a name so he can relocate whoever the guy is, but the little demon in Shiro’s mind that loves Keith still makes him tempted to pull rank. Which is ridiculous, because if people _didn’t_ try to hit on Keith, then Shiro would be offended beyond words on Keith’s behalf, given how perfect he is. Still, despite knowing he has no right to it, he can’t help the intense possessiveness Keith makes him feel. “Well, that’s what I’m here for,” Shiro says, smiling brightly. “Your big, strong boyfriend, here to fend off everyone trying to get with you, all night long.”

“Alright, settle down there, stud.” Keith snorts. “Anything else leaves your mouth that sounds more like something Lance would say and maybe I won’t even want to fake date you.”

“You love me.” Shiro pouts. “But you’re right, sorry. I know you can take care of yourself. You’re also very strong.”

“Are—are you already getting drunk or something?” Keith says. “From just that one drink?”

“What? No! I don’t know? No, I—I don’t think so.” Shiro’s whole torso still burns a bit from the alien drink, but mostly he’s still flustered from everything that’s happening. He hates himself for it, but now he can’t get what Kinkade said out of his head. He’s done everything he can for so long now to tell himself that there’s _no way_ Keith could feel the same, not a chance. Yet at the tiniest hint of _what if_ slipping into his mind, Shiro’s brain short-circuits. But—god. He can’t spend the whole night staring off into space, wondering if Kinkade’s got a point about dating your best friend.

And as nice as it’d be to blame any odd behaviour on alcohol, it’d obviously be a lie, so instead Shiro says earnestly, “No. Keith. You _are_ strong. Very, very strong. You don’t need me to protect you.”

Not in the way Keith’s joking about and not in the ugly, jealous way that Shiro’s feeling, either.

“Maybe I don’t,” Keith smirks, “but, man, if I don’t love a good way to cut a conversation short. So thanks for being my Prince Charming tonight, anyway.”

Shiro laughs at that, and when Keith squeezes the grip on his waist and smiles up at him brightly, feels the tension in his muscles slowly starting to melt away.

“So you _do_ think I’m charming, huh?” Shiro murmurs, his heartbeat fluttering like a butterfly on speed when Keith simply chuckles and pulls him even closer while taking another sip of his drink.

Shiro turns his head to hide his smile against the top of Keith’s head, feeling warm inside from far more than the drink.

~

“There are no words to describe the overwhelming joy this wonderful news makes me feel.” Acxa stares directly at Shiro, voice monotone as ever.

“Thank you, Acxa, that’s very kind of you,” Shiro says, trying not to let it show that he’s sort of fearing for his life right now.

“Thanks,” Keith says softly with a small smile, like Acxa couldn’t have sounded more warm and genuinely delighted over being told that Keith’s here with Shiro and they’re now dating.

“I knew this would happen.” Acxa sounds more heartbroken and bitter than anything else to Shiro’s ears, but Keith still has his fond little look on his face.

The thing is—Shiro likes Acxa. She’s capable and talented and smart, worthy of anyone’s admiration and respect. While a lot of humans find her hard to read because of the blunt and expressionless way she has to communicate so typical of Galra, she’s also loyal, caring, and incredibly brave. Shiro still doesn’t know her all too well personally, but she’s been an invaluable ally in the battles they’ve fought since returning to Earth.

So the fact that she’s Galra and most other people easily misread her tone or intentions has nothing to do with why Shiro feels sweat gather at the back of his neck, wondering if she’s currently planning his murder.

Acxa gives a curt nod before she’s off again, and Shiro nods to himself too as they watch her leave.

“Yup,” he says. “She’s definitely still in love with you.”

“What?” Keith turns his head to glare at him. “No, she’s not.”

“Keith.”

“Shiro.” Keith pouts. It’s adorable. _Keith_ is adorable. Shiro wants to kiss him. Always, but especially now, when they’ve had a couple more drinks and he could swear he sees Keith blush. Which is even more adorable. “She’s never been in love with me. We’re just friends.”

“Right.” Shiro smirks. “Just a friend who wants to bone you.”

_“No.”_ Keith definitely blushes at that. “She’s—she mostly likes girls, anyway. We’ve bonded over that.”

Shiro squints his eyes. “You’ve bonded over mostly liking girls?”

“No! Mostly liking guys, I mean. Me. That I’m—we’ve bonded over _that._ Gay stuff.” Keith shakes his head. “Not that—Galra really call it that, or even care, but—you know. Anyway, whatever. I’m a taken man tonight, right?”

Shiro feels his own face flush, then has to tell himself that it’s definitely time to pause on his drink consumption, because for one terrifying second he’s not sure if he said something out loud about how he’d love to make sure that Keith was well and truly _taken_ by him tonight.

“Yes,” Shiro agrees. “I’m your boyfriend, Keith. You’re mine. So that means I can point out when I know someone wants to bone my boyfriend.”

“Shi—”

“And that someone,” Shiro says stoically, as if he’s not throwing huge bricks in his little wanting-to-bone-Keith glasshouse right now, “is Acxa.”

“Come _on,_ Shiro,” Keith whines, “don’t start with that shit again.”

Shiro laughs at how much the teasing has Keith squirming and scrunches his nose at him. “But it’s so cute how flustered it makes you.”

“Dick,” Keith grumbles.

Shiro leans in close to his ear, murmuring, “Oh, baby, I wasn’t trying to be that crude,” before he can think better of it.

Keith coughs, pressing a fist to his mouth. “I—ah.” He coughs again before clearing his throat, then detangles himself from Shiro’s side, something looking a lot like discomfort flashing across his face. “Hrm. I think I have to go to the bathroom.”

“Keith, are you—”

“I’ll be right back, just gotta—” Keith’s already walking away, waving him off with a quick smile thrown over his shoulder before he’s gone.

“Fuck,” Shiro whispers to himself and drags a hand down his face.

He needs to stop.

Oh, he _knows_ he needs to stop; there’s a difference between putting on a show to win a bet and whispering bad, suggestive puns in Keith’s ear while calling him pet names.

_Holy shit._

What is he even doing?

Any pleasant buzz from the alcohol and flirty banter he’s had with Keith instantly disappears, anxiety pulling tight in Shiro’s chest instead. He should go find Keith right away. Apologize and call this whole thing off—tell Keith that he wins the bet, Shiro loses—before he’ll straight up admit how bad he wants Keith.

“Captain Shirogane!” another voice calls from behind him and Shiro turns around for what feels like the hundredth time this night alone to see who wants his attention.

“Doctor Hanson,” he says and tries to put on a pleasant smile when he sees one of the humans working at the ATLAS medbay standing there. 

While Shiro likes to keep his relationship with the people on his own ship friendly enough that he knows who everyone is, he hasn’t had much opportunity or reason to talk to Hanson so far. He’s had his fair share of moments since he got the ATLAS where he’s needed to get patched up post-battle, sure, but it’s always been another doctor treating him. Apart from Hanson’s work performance, all Shiro really knows about him is that he’s heard some crew members refer to him as _Doctor Handsome,_ and one time Shiro helped him out by being his spotter at the gym for like ten minutes. That’s about it, though.

He guesses he can understand the nickname—the doc _is_ pretty handsome. Not really Shiro’s type, but he’s always seemed friendly and is easy enough on the eyes, so Shiro gets where everyone else is coming from.

Right now Hanson’s freckled cheeks are red, his short blonde hair tousled, and he’s smirking at Shiro while reaching out with the hand not holding a drink. He stops halfway through the movement, seeming to think better of it as he switches his glass to the other hand, then tries again. 

Shiro’s eyes widen, realizing just _why_ Hanson felt the need to use his other hand when Hanson grips his left upper arm and squeezes Shiro’s bicep.

“Tell me, Captain,” Hanson says while continuing to shamelessly feel him up, “is that a flight stick in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?”

“I—I’m sorry?” Shiro manages to get out, but before he can truly process everything that’s happening, Hanson crowds in even closer at the same time as he tugs Shiro forward.

“I know we haven’t had much time to talk since we had our little— _moment_ at the gym...” Hanson flutters his lashes seductively, as if they’d done something far more intimate than Shiro simply stepping in while Hanson waited for his regular gym buddy to show up. “...and maybe I’ve had a few too many drinks—”

“Uh, yeah. I think maybe you h—”

_“—but,_ I’ve been watching you, and I’ve been thinking,” Hanson interrupts him. Shiro laughs awkwardly and tries to take a step back, to put some distance between them and let the guy know they’re really not on the same page here, but Hanson follows, ending up so close their chests almost brush. “You’re the Captain. Everyone’s gonna be a little intimidated by the thought of hitting on you, yeah? And that’s—that, my dear Cap, is what liquid courage is for. Right? And now we’re here! Both of us alone on Valentine’s Day, and I told myself—I _told myself…_ now I’m just gonna _do this,_ walk right up to you and—”

“Get your hands off him.”

The words are low, almost a growl to them, and before Shiro can do or say anything else, he’s getting yanked away from Hanson’s personal space. Next second he’s tucked up securely against Keith’s side again, and Shiro finds himself relaxing into his hold before he’s even made a conscious decision to do so.

“I—Paladin?” Hanson looks between them, shaking his head with furrowed brows like nothing about this situation makes any sense. “Sir?”

Keith straightens up a little at the title. Shiro practically preens on his behalf, simply from how proud he always is of Keith—over how far he’s come and how much he deserves all the praise and respect he gets.

Then Keith slides his hand into the back pocket of Shiro’s pants, and Shiro’s eyes widen in shock.

“What, exactly, do you think you’re doing with my boyfriend, doc?” Keith says, still with that low growl to his voice that could and should make anyone tremble with fear.

Shiro definitely feels like trembling, too, even though it’s mostly so Keith will continue to hold him in his arms.

_“Boyfriend?”_ Hanson looks both a hundred times more confused and infinitely sobered up all of a sudden.

“Yeah,” Keith says and then the hand on Shiro’s ass in the back pocket of his pants _squeezes._ Shiro snaps his head to the side to stare down at Keith, but he only catches a glimpse of his smile when Keith turns to him—because then Keith’s cupping his face before leaning up to press a hard, lingering kiss to Shiro’s cheek. _“Seriously,_ I can’t leave you alone for five minutes before someone tries to steal you away from me, babe?”

Keith lowers himself down from standing on his tiptoes while Shiro stares off into the void and feels his soul ascend. Keith just—

He—

Sliding his hand down to hold right below Shiro’s jawline, Keith strokes his thumb across the start of his cheek. Shiro looks back down at him, then once again catches sight of that subtle, probably-Galra-feral expression that Shiro knows so well.

_Fuck._

It’s what finally breaks him out of his trance, what makes Shiro’s brain stop doing somersaults to wrap his head around what’s happening, and remember what they’re _actually doing._

His cheeks still tingle from Keith’s touch, he’s hyper-aware both of where Keith’s thumb is caressing him while still feeling the ghost of Keith’s lips on his skin at the spot he kissed. But Shiro already knows what’s going on here. They’ve talked about this. They _literally_ joked about this being the exact kind of situation they wanted to avoid by pretending to be on a date tonight to begin with.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” Shiro finally gathers himself enough to say. He casts a glance to the side before he looks back at Keith, then reaches up to touch the flower in Keith’s hair. “You know you’re the only man for me. I’ll never want anyone else to make puns about my dick. _Ever.”_

Keith startles at that, eyes going wide before he looks to the side too, but Hanson is long gone.

“Did he really—?” Keith says and slides the hand he has on Shiro’s face down to his chest, resting it there.

“Yup.” Shiro nods. “He sure did.”

“Oh my god,” Keith whispers under his breath, but then he squints his eyes. “Are you okay?”

“God, yeah, I’m fine, Keith.” Shiro laughs and reaches up to take Keith’s hand before he can reach for his knife or something. “It was just—very unexpected.”

“What did he even say?”

“Uh, he was... I don’t know, apparently he’s been wanting to talk to me for a long time or something, so—”

“No, I—” Keith chuckles. “I meant, what was the pun? About—you know.”

“Oh.” Shiro flushes again and realizes that he’s still kind of holding Keith’s hand to his chest, covering the back of it with his palm, so he lets his hand drop before he says, “I can’t tell you that.”

“Shiro!”

“Nope, not happening.” Shiro shakes his head. Keith shuffles in closer, though, furrowing his brows and looking up at him with the cutest pleading expression. “Oh my god,” Shiro mutters and rolls his eyes, but it’s mostly at himself and how pathetic he is for being unable to resist that look on Keith’s face. “It—well, it had to do with a flightstick and my pants, alright? And that’s all I’m ever gonna—”

Keith snorts and Shiro tries, he tries _so hard_ not to laugh too, but then he makes the mistake of looking back at Keith’s face, and it only takes another beat of them trying to hold back their laughter before they both break into a fit of giggles.

“What did _you_ say?” Keith finally gets out while clutching at Shiro’s suit for balance.

“I—nothing! What was I supposed to say?” Shiro shakes his head with another chuckle.

Keith giggles, then tugs at his lapels until Shiro looks down at him again. He raises an eyebrow and murmurs, “Well, _do_ you walk around with a Thrustmaster Joystick on you at all times, Captain?” 

_“Keith.”_ Shiro feels his face heat; he can’t remember ever hearing Keith like this—after drinking alcohol or not—no matter how silly the jokes are.

“Sorry,” Keith laughs and shakes his head. “Now I’m just being mean.”

“Mm, good thing I already know what a bad boy you are,” Shiro teases. “At least I’m used to it.” 

Keith raises his eyebrows. “Hey, I’m not that much of a bad boy.”

“Oh, you’re not?” Shiro’s mouth twitches with another smirk, because that’s rich coming from the guy who stole his car the first time they met. “Since when?”

“You saying I’m not always a good boy for you, Captain?” Keith says while staying close, smirking with his hands resting on Shiro’s chest.

“What?” Shiro croaks and blinks down at him, trying to process those words in a way that _isn’t_ taken straight from one of his own deepest, darkest, filthiest fantasies. And maybe he would’ve been able to do so—to handle whatever the hell is happening right now, walk away from it with _some_ of his sanity intact, no matter how much the memory of hearing those words from Keith would forever haunt his thoughts while alone at night. 

Maybe, if Keith had kept that teasing grin on his face.

But instead he tenses up, his eyes going wide as a blush blooms bright on his cheeks. “I—I mean, I just,” Keith stammers and drops his hands from Shiro’s chest. “I usually am, right? Like, I listen to you. When you—give orders and stuff, I always wanna—uh—”

Keith takes a step back while stumbling over his own words. Before he can get too far, though, Shiro reaches out to tug at one of the belt loops on Keith’s shiny black pants. Cut off in his rambling, he trips closer and plants both palms back on Shiro’s chest while staring up at him.

“That’s right,” Shiro says, the calm in his voice betraying none of his internal turmoil over how close they are, how red-faced Keith has gone. “And you _did_ just come to my rescue, so I’d say you’re a _very_ good boy, Keith. When you want to be.”

“For the right person, sure,” Keith says. “People! I meant, for the—for the people who deserve it. I can be good. Sometimes.”

“Mm,” Shiro hums, trying to keep his cool and wrap his head around what’s even happening right now, while Keith nervously flicks his gaze around anywhere but Shiro’s face. “You—”

“Hey,” Keith interrupts and looks back at him, voice uncharacteristically high-pitched before he smiles in a way that mostly just makes him look kind of nauseous. “Do you wanna dance?”

“Huh?” Shiro blinks.

“It’s a dance, right?” Keith gestures towards the people on the dancefloor and shrugs, his cheeks still pink. “And we’re supposed to be on a date, but we—we haven’t danced, so. Would you like to?”

“Yeah,” Shiro says, his heart beating so hard he swears he feels it in time with the bass of the music. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Great!” Keith quickly grabs his wrist before starting to tug Shiro along towards the dancefloor with determined steps. He slides his hand down to Shiro’s palm without looking back, and Shiro fights not to trip over his own feet when Keith tangles their fingers together.

Bet or not, suddenly this doesn’t feel very platonic anymore.

Like, at _all._

Keith stops them at an empty spot before turning around to face him, still holding his hand, and all Shiro can do is stare.

Maybe, the tiny little treacherously hopeful voice in the back of his mind thinks, things really _have_ changed somewhere along the way for Keith. Whatever Shiro has been so sure that Keith feels for him—maybe it’s not like that anymore. Maybe, just like Shiro once used to think of Keith sort of like a little brother or something, all those years ago when they first met, Keith doesn’t see him like that now.

And maybe Kinkade did have a point about Keith not saying everything outright.

Keith has always been better at showing rather than telling, and he’s always been the most determined person in the whole universe to protect Shiro. To keep Shiro safe, make him feel cared for, even while he’s—somehow—never overstepped any boundaries, never been overbearing about it. Maybe, Shiro realizes with a revelation that stuns him like a blast to the head, if Keith would feel the same way, then he’d be trying to protect Shiro, too. Just like Shiro has been doing all this time by making sure that Keith won’t ever find out how _he_ really feels; what he wishes they could be to each other and have together. What Shiro’s always felt convinced would be _impossible_ for them to have together.

He’s only been a bit tipsy tonight so far, but all of it sounds way too simple and too good to be true, like Shiro’s drunk out of his mind and making it all up.

There’s no way this could be that easy.

...Could it?

“Uh.” Keith finally lets go of Shiro’s hand only to hold up both of his own awkwardly. “I don’t actually know how to—”

“Here.” Shiro takes a step forward, placing his left palm at the small of Keith’s back before he takes Keith’s hand in his own Altean one, practically engulfing it with how much bigger the prosthetic is. “Like this,” he says and gently urges him closer. “I’m taller than you, right?”

“You—yeah. Right.” Keith puts his other hand on Shiro’s shoulder right as the music changes. Slower notes start to play, the lighting above the dancefloor dimming. Keith tenses up, curling his fingers against the fabric of Shiro’s suit. “Oh, shit. Um. Do you still want to—?”

“I saw Allura watching us on our right,” Shiro leans in close, murmuring the words in Keith’s ear over the music, before daring to ever so gently stroke the tip of his nose against his hairline. “Pretty weird for us not to dance now, right?”

“Oh.”

“But, if you wanna lose our bet, don’t let me—”

_“No._ Shut up.” Keith huffs, finally relaxing in his hold. “I’m gonna win this one, old-timer.”

“Sure you are.” Shiro grins and steadies his grip on him, then leans their temples together as he gently starts moving them in time with the music. He’s no professional dancer, but he knows how to lead a basic slow dance. And whether he’s actually right in having his whole world feeling shifted from a sense of hope that he’s _never_ had before over his love for Keith—Shiro’s going to enjoy this. Nothing could exist to him right now other than how Keith’s tucked close, and nothing could break him out of this moment.

Until Keith steps on his toes, that is.

“Ow,” Shiro winces.

“Sorry!” Keith pulls back to stare down at their feet. “I told you, I—I don’t really know what I’m doing.”

“It’s alright.” Shiro laughs softly. “You haven’t danced much before?”

“Um. Try never?”

“Really?” Shiro’s eyebrows raise. “That’s surprising.”

“What? Why?”

“Romantic guy like you, never danced before? Yeah, I’d say it’s surprising.”

_“Romantic?”_ Keith stares at him in shock. _“Me?”_

“Yeah?” Shiro says, his heart doing somersaults in his chest with every brush of their bodies against each other as they move to the music. “We’re just on a fake date, buddy, and so far you’ve—well, let’s see. You brought me flowers, you offered to get me a drink, _and_ you were the one who just asked me to dance. Just to name a few things.”

“That’s—but that was just—”

“Face it, Kogane,” Shiro cuts him off. “Whether you wanna admit it or not, beneath that rugged exterior, you’re a gentleman. A real sweetheart.”

Keith scoffs, glancing away. “I wasn’t exactly popular at school dances, you know. Maybe I just wanted to know what dancing with a guy is like.”

Shiro frowns. “You’ve never danced on a date or something, though? Like—a regular one. Just because? For fun?”

“Shiro.” Keith furrows his brows. “This is the first date I’ve been on. And it’s—uh, I mean. It’s the first _fake_ date I’ve been on. I’ve never been on an actual date.”

“What?” Shiro stares at him, convinced he must have misunderstood something. “You’ve never been on a date?”

“You knew that.”

“I did _not_ know that, no. Definitely not.”

Keith laughs. “When the hell do you think I would’ve dated someone?”

“I don’t know? Maybe you found some nice boy at the Garrison after I left, before—you know, all the weird space stuff happened. Or even while I was still around and you just never told me, or once we—”

“Nope,” Keith pops the word. “Teenage me was always busy m—uh. Um—brooding.”

Shiro stares at him, trying to let this new information sink in, the silence loud between them even with the music playing. “Well… you never told me about that,” he finally says. “About not dating anyone, I mean. I knew about the brooding. Also—not to be that guy, but there are a lot of handsome Blades, and you were with them for a _long_ time, so—” He quickly snaps his mouth shut when he realizes what he’s rambling about. Back then, while Keith was away from team Voltron, _Shiro_ was the one constantly brooding, wondering when he’d hear about Keith having met some hot alien who was now going to whisk him away forever.

“Of course you’d think that,” Keith mutters.

“What?” Shiro frowns again, but Keith quickly smiles up at him.

“Anyway, I haven’t told you about never being on a date because I haven’t been on one. I would’ve told you otherwise. Simple as that.”

“Okay,” Shiro says slowly. “But it’s—I mean, it would’ve been cool if you hadn’t. Do you... not _want_ to date anyone? Because that’s okay too, you know.”

Keith chuckles. “Thanks, but it’s not that. It’s—whatever. It’s all good, Shiro, don’t worry about it. Work always keeps me busy anyway, right?”

“Doesn’t mean you have to feel like you can’t _let loose a little_ every now and then.”

“Oh, ha ha, very funny.” Keith rolls his eyes but he still grins, before studying Shiro with a contemplative look. “What’s your dream date like?”

“What?” Shiro blinks, taken aback by the question. “Dream date?”

“Yeah. Like, ideal date, what would it be like? For you.”

“Uh.” Shiro searches for words, trying not to blurt out something like _anything, so long as it’s with you._ “This one’s been nice?”

_“Shiro._ I’m being serious.”

Shiro’s cheeks flush again, because so is _he._ “What? I mean it, Keith! As far as fake dates go, this is easily the best one I’ve been on.” If they only added a bit more confirmed romance, maybe some kissing as well, this really _would_ be the perfect date.

“That doesn’t answer my question, though.” Keith squints his eyes at him.

“I—I don’t know. It’s been a long time since I did these things, Keith.”

“Yeah, but I’ve _never_ done it,” Keith says with a pout and presses in a little closer against Shiro’s body, looking up at him with wide eyes. “Can’t you indulge me and my lack of experience just a little, Captain?”

Shiro almost chokes on air. “I—ah. Okay. Alright, fine, I’ll—uh. Sorry, what was it you wanted to know again?”

Keith chuckles, furrowing his brows, amused and confused. “Your dream date. What would you want it to be like?”

“Right. Yes. Um.” Shiro looks away, trying to gather himself before he says, “I really have liked everything about this date, Keith.”

“Oh. Really?”

“Yeah. Really.” Shiro smiles at him, flustered again. “Of course. Flowers, dancing… my date rescuing me from my own employee drunkenly trying to hit on me… what could be better? Call me old-fashioned, but being such a gentleman goes a long way, you know.”

Keith snorts and hangs his head. “So actually _you’re_ the romantic here, then, huh? If you’re into all that cliche stuff.”

“Guess so,” Shiro murmurs as Keith looks up at him again, the corner of his mouth twitching. 

“So you wanna like… what? Be pampered and spoiled, Captain?”

Shiro laughs. “Listen, I—I’m not saying I’m high-maintenance or something. Simple stuff like dinner and a movie, or—whatever, can be nice. Maybe just taking the hoverbike somewhere, going on a picnic to watch the sunset before looking at the stars… some cheesiness, but something that makes it kinda personal too, you know?”

“Hm. That does sound nice.”

“Yeah?” Shiro breathes out, flustered over talking about this when Keith is the only person he’s imagining doing it with.

“Yeah,” Keith says softly. “Sounds really nice, Shiro.”

Shiro’s breath catches again, and he does everything in his power to keep his gaze trained on Keith’s eyes instead of letting it drop to blatantly stare at his lips. “So what’s _your_ dream date like?” he says, trying to distract himself.

“I told you, I’ve never—”

“Yeah, but what would you want it to be like?”

Keith shrugs, going a little tense again. “I—I dunno. I don’t think I’m that picky, either. I’d just wanna, um. Be with the person I want to be with, whatever we were up to. Think that’s—that’s all I’ve ever wanted, really. I’d be fine with anything if it was with him.”

He glances up at Shiro, and Shiro’s heart _aches_ over how badly he wants Keith to be talking about him right now—serving as yet another reminder of how much Shiro longs to close the space between them and just kiss him. “Whoever you end up with is going to be one lucky guy, buddy,” he hears himself say instead.

“Oh,” Keith says.

Then, because clearly he’s a stupid idiot fool, Shiro shoves his foot even further down his mouth. “And hey, I’ll take you on as many fake dates as you want until then. You know, for practice. Until—until you can go on a real one.”

“Okay.” Keith’s nose twitches. “Thanks, Shiro.”

“Unless I’m too busy getting wooed by Iverson, of course,” Shiro says with a forced laugh, but Keith actually relaxes, chuckling along with him.

“Remember how I said I’m not that much of a bad boy around you?” Another smirk spreads on Keith’s face, and Shiro’s the one who almost steps on _his_ foot this time.

“Yep,” Shiro says, voice close to a squeak. “Sure do, buddy.”

_God,_ he could slap himself. He has to stop calling Keith that. You don’t call the man you want to kiss and marry and build a home with and have lots of incredible sex every single day for the rest of your life with _buddy._

Keith raises an eyebrow and leans in a little. “Well, I’m gonna be _really_ good now.” 

“Oh?” Shiro’s eyes go impossibly wider while he tries to keep himself together. “How’s that, exactly?”

Keith bites his bottom lip. “I swore to myself I wouldn’t actually tell you about this tonight, but… maybe you deserve to hear it.”

“Hear what?” Shiro breathes out while staring at Keith, because—is this really happening? Will Keith confess his feelings first? Is Shiro soon going to—

His thoughts abruptly come to a halt when Keith barks out a bright laugh.

“I know for a fact that Iverson _did_ try to flirt with you!”

“I—what?”

“He did, but he wasn’t serious.”

“Uh,” Shiro starts, completely unprepared for where this conversation headed. “That’s a relief? I guess? How do you even know that?”

“Because I met Coran on my way to the bathroom, and—I dunno. At first he gave me a long speech about how it was about time you _‘snatched me up’,_ since apparently a lot of aliens consider me an eligible bachelor and try to get him to set me up on a date with them, or something?”

“Oh?” Shiro clenches his jaw. All of those aliens are very, very valid, and Shiro has been suspecting as much for a long time. Getting it confirmed also makes him once again very, very eager to plant a kiss on Keith’s face and profess his undying love for him right this very second, though.

“Yeah, wild, right?” Keith huffs—as if everyone in their right mind wouldn’t have already assumed that people flock around Keith, desperate for a moment of his attention. “Anyway. He said none of them have proven themselves to be good enough in his opinion, based on, um, traditional Altean standards. Which he also told me a lot about, but—I already don’t remember most of it. And now since you and I are, y’know, _dating,_ he said the next step was to test the strength of our, uh… blossoming romance. By tossing in a new player to court one of us and see what happens.”

“I’m—” Shiro shakes his head. “Wait. So Coran sent Hanson?”

“What? No. No, no, that was all—just a pretty natural reaction to you, I guess. Coran sent Iverson.”

“Coran sent _Iverson?_ To see if I’d pick him over _you?”_

“Mhm.” Keith giggles again before pulling a face. “That’s what I said too. And then Coran admitted he’s still working out how humans measure the worthiness of a potential mate, but he picked Iverson because he’s apparently the most attractive man he could personally think of.”

“Oh, boy.”

“Yup,” Keith nods in agreement. “Which I still think is hilarious.”

Shiro snorts out a laugh at the absurdity of it all, shaking his head. “Okay, well—just so we’re perfectly clear, I _would_ pick you. Seriously.”

Keith _pffts._ “Over Iverson? I’d sure hope so.”

Over anyone in the whole universe who’s ever existed or will ever exist, Shiro thinks, then swallows thickly as he tries to reel himself back. “Thanks for telling me,” he says instead. “About Iverson not actually being into me, I mean. Honestly saved me from questioning my whole life. Guess you were right.”

“Of course I was,” Keith says. “Wait. About what?”

Shiro smiles down at him. “About what a good boy you are. Around me, at least.”

Keith makes a choked sound. “Stepping on your toes is me being _good?”_

Shiro chuckles softly. “I don’t know. I think it’s kinda cute that you even let me teach you.” He rubs his thumb at the small of Keith’s back, leaning in a little closer to his face. “And you’re doing really well for someone who’s never danced before.”

“I’m just—doing whatever you’re doing.”

“You’re doing great,” Shiro murmurs reassuringly, keeping his eyes locked on Keith’s. “You always do great, Keith. At everything you do.”

“Shut up.” Keith squirms and looks away again. “Not everything. Seriously, I don’t know how to dance. We’re barely even moving and besides, you’re the one who’s— _wah—”_

Keith clutches onto Shiro’s shoulder with a half-squeaked noise as Shiro tightens his hold on him and then promptly lifts Keith off the floor. He spins them around, grinning wide to himself before he stops and then slowly dips Keith, looking down while Keith blinks up at him in shock.

“See?” Shiro says and slowly pulls him back up, keeping their bodies pressed close. He leans in, smirking when he whispers, “Good boy.”

“Okay, that’s—stop it, oh my god, now you’re just—” Keith’s face goes beet red, visible even in the dim light, and Shiro can’t help his snicker. “I told you, I was just trying to be ni—”

“I meant it,” Shiro says, but he does nothing to tamper down his grin, his stomach full of butterflies. “You always do _great,_ Keith.”

Keith’s mouth drops open, speechless for a moment before he simply ducks his head and leans into Shiro’s hold. Shiro tugs him even closer, continuing their slow dancing while the silence settles.

“Only because you’re always there to teach me,” Keith finally mutters, so low it’s barely audible over the music. Shiro’s heart skips again, but then Keith looks up at him with a smirk back on his face. “So thank you for once again indulging me and my lack of experience, sir.”

_“Keith,”_ Shiro says, his own cheeks heating again.

“What?”

“Nothing. It’s just—you know, you’ve been calling me that ever since you were seventeen and joined the Garrison.”

“‘Sir’?”

“Mhm.”

“So?”

_“So,_ we both know you’re still just being as much of a little shit every time you do it now as you were back then,” Shiro says. Not that he’d ever want Keith to stop—hearing the rasp off his voice calling him _sir_ always manages to give Shiro goosebumps, no matter how professional the setting or situation might be.

“I’ll have you know I’ve always had a deep respect for your leadership,” Keith says, sounding dead serious even though he lifts an eyebrow and teasingly adds, “Sir.”

“Keith—”

“What? I _have.”_

“Oh, I know.” Shiro can’t fight his bashful little smile over Keith’s sincerity. “And I’ve always appreciated that.”

They’re still swaying to the beat, but it’s slow and thoughtless now. Feeling brave, Shiro guides their clasped hands to put Keith’s palm on his other shoulder. Keith goes with it, even though he looks up at Shiro in surprise when Shiro lets go and grips Keith’s hips with both hands instead.

“Lance is on our left now,” Shiro says, as if he’d still need to blame all of this on a silly bet. He still feels flustered and out of his depths, though, so he squeezes his fingers, then leans in to murmur in Keith’s ear, “Think I saw both Allura and Veronica still watching us, too.”

“Oh.” Keith glances out at all the people around them, ending up leaning his head against Shiro’s chest while his hands stroke up Shiro’s shoulders.

Shiro shivers and can’t stop himself from gently nosing at Keith’s hair again, breathing him in. The scent is so nice and comforting, everything Shiro loves and wants to be surrounded by all the time.

“Sure I should’ve brought you here tonight?” he whispers without thinking.

“What?” Keith tips his head back to look at him.

“I mean, if you have so many suitors that even _Coran_ has noticed it…” Shiro trails off, Keith’s fingertips proving a distraction as they slide higher, mindlessly playing with the buzzed hair at the nape of Shiro’s neck.

“I already told you, Shiro,” Keith says. “I didn’t want to go with anyone else.”

Shiro’s pulse quickens at the anyone _else._ He swallows as he watches Keith’s face, and—this is getting ridiculous. There’s no way he’s misinterpreting things now. Is there?

“Yeah?” he says quietly.

Keith smiles again. “Yeah. But this was a really good idea. You and me, I mean.”

Shiro smiles. “I think so, too.”

“Be careful, or I might just have to keep you, Captain,” Keith murmurs before he snorts. “Even though you would’ve clearly been fine without me.”

_“Me?_ The one who’s had to deal with—”

“Exactly,” Keith cuts him off. “You’re already used to everyone drooling over you.”

“That’s not true. Keith—stop, it’s not!” Shiro says as Keith laughs again.

“Whatever you say, sir.”

“You’re making it sound like I’m some kind of playboy.”

“Could you honestly tell me I’m wrong, though, Shiro?” Keith says, still with that teasing smirk on his face, and Shiro has no idea how he’s ever been able to watch Keith looking at him like that and think of it as _platonic._

“I—” Shiro has to remind himself that no matter how hopeful he might be feeling about his chances of getting with Keith right now, he can’t just slide his hands down to grab his ass. “Alright, sure, I guess I’ve been out with a guy or two. Doesn’t make me some expert on any of this, though. Seriously, Keith. I have no idea what I’m doing most of the time. I’m a _mess,_ you if anyone should know that.” 

Keith studies him with a gentle smile on his face. “Think the only thing that’s messy about you is how you’re always being too hard on yourself, overthinking even the smallest things.”

Shiro huffs. “Thought you were the one who said I couldn’t even act normal enough to be convincing for our bet earlier.”

“Yeah, but it all seems to be working out pretty well since you started to relax a little, right? We’re still in a tie. Even if I’m obviously going to win.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” Shiro says teasingly, but his smile quickly turns sour as he curses himself internally. God, Keith is _right._ Shiro does keep letting his mind twist itself into knots by overthinking everything. At least sometimes, and especially when it comes to Keith himself.

And tonight all of Shiro’s wildest dreams from the past years have been smashed together and basically handed to him on a silver platter, yet he still doesn’t have the courage to go for it? He’s been a coward in the past because he’s thought it was the right thing to do for their friendship’s sake, but can he honestly keep pretending to be _just friends_ with Keith now, after this, without knowing for sure? And if he doesn’t go for it tonight, who knows when he’ll ever get a chance again? If Keith _does_ feel the same, how long will it take before he doesn’t anymore? Before Keith moves on because he thinks Shiro doesn’t love him back? How many handsome aliens proposing to Keith will it take before Shiro gets his head out of his ass and does what he’s always done when it comes to everything else he’s wanted in life, and makes sure he _goes for it?_

Keith says, still smiling, “I think if you were gonna win our bet, you’d have to—”

Shiro isn’t really listening to what he’s saying anymore, though. He’s too overcome by a sense of determination he’s not sure he’s ever experienced before—times he’s had to fight for his life included—as he stares at Keith. It only takes a split second for the decision that it _is_ time he finally stopped overthinking this to settle in his mind. Shiro slides both hands down to the small of Keith’s back, tugging him up against his body, and doesn’t let himself question things anymore as he surges down to close the space between their—

Keith makes a panicked noise and shoves him back _hard_ with both hands on Shiro’s chest, both of them stumbling apart.

“Oh my god!” Shiro starts, mortification shooting through his body as they stare at each other, Keith with his eyes wide in shock and a hurt expression on his face that Shiro’s never, ever seen on him before. He takes a step forward, holding out a hand to close the distance between them again. “Keith, listen—I’m—fuck, I’m sorry, oh my _god,_ I’m so, _so_ sorr—”

“You know, you really _are_ a dick sometimes,” Keith says, his voice nothing at all like an angry growl or like he’s offended—just cold and low and hurt. Then he stumbles back another step and turns around, starting to hurry away.

“Keith—wait! Keith, I’m _sorry!”_ Shiro calls after him with panic pulling tight in his chest, clogging up his throat and making it hard to breathe. He tries to follow, but Keith is quick and lithe, a professional in the art of stealth, and it doesn’t take many seconds before he disappears among the crowd of people. “Keith!”

Shiro stops, standing alone on the dancefloor while blinking back the tears of shame and guilt welling up in his eyes.

He presses a hand to his mouth, hating himself for what he just tried to do.

~

“Hey, has—has anyone seen Keith?” Shiro says as he comes up next to Pidge, Shay, and Romelle. They’re all watching the stage, where a drunken Lance is currently wailing away into the microphone while Hunk accompanies him on the piano.

“Not recently, nope,” Pidge says, their face turning concerned as they look Shiro up and down. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s fine,” Shiro says, pretty sure it’s obvious that he’s lying, but he can’t care about that right now. He’s already checked the ballroom twice, but Keith’s nowhere to be found and isn’t answering his phone. “Just, uh, gotta find him. And I don’t know where he went.”

“Well, he can’t be far from you,” Romelle snorts. “He never is.”

“Right.” Shiro swallows around the dryness in his throat. “Thanks anyway, guys. I’ll catch you all later.”

Cursing again over the fact that ATLAS is offline so he can’t just ask her if Keith’s still somewhere nearby, he pulls out his phone. He stares at the screen, but the only notification is a reminder of some notes that he needs to make sure are in order for a meeting next week.

He’s just about to head out in the hallway again when Kinkade shows up, flinging an arm around Shiro’s shoulders. “Captain!” he says. “You know, I’ve been thinking a little more about what you said. And I feel like maybe—”

The next second he’s cut off by Griffin grabbing the collar of his shirt and covering Kinkade’s mouth with his own. Kinkade quickly lets go of Shiro, gripping Griffin’s hips and moaning while kissing him back as they stumble away.

Shiro blinks in shock for a moment before he shakes his head and gets moving again.

Relief floods his chest at the figure he spots standing right outside the ballroom down the hall, easily recognizable even with her back to him in her gorgeous pink, flowy dress and silver hair tied up in a complicated and beautiful hairdo.

“Allura!” Shiro calls out and starts jogging towards her.

“Oh, Shiro,” Allura says and turns around to face him with a bright smile, clasping her hands to her chest as Shiro stops in front of her. “We haven’t had much time to talk tonight.”

“I know, that’s completely on me and I’m really sorry, but I—”

“No, no, no,” Allura shakes her head, “please, do _not_ apologize. We have all been so delighted to hear about you and Keith. Oh, I always knew this day would come.”

Shiro blinks at her. “You did?” he says, feeling stupidly hopeful again for two seconds—then he realizes how dumb he’s being, making it all hurt again.

“Shiro.” Allura reaches up to bop his nose, and Shiro startles. “We all did, sillypants. Sometimes I think you two are the only people who pretended you didn’t know.”

“What? No. No, Allura, I—” Shiro sighs and hangs his head, lifting one hand to press his fingertips against his eye sockets. He doesn’t want to show up and just start dumping all his troubles on her when they’ve barely even interacted tonight, but he also feels pretty much on the verge of a breakdown as he tries to take a deep breath before looking at her again. “Allura, I _hurt_ him.”

“Oh, I refuse to believe you would ever do anything of the sort, Shiro,” Allura says. “And no two people are as close as you are. Whatever happened, it can’t be the end of the stars and space, can it?”

Shiro swallows thickly. “God, I don’t even know anymo—”

“Shiro.” Allura shuffles in a little closer and places both hands on his shoulders before staring at him intensely, graceful and wise and understanding as ever. “Listen to me. Listen carefully. Are you listening? Listen, if _anyone_ can figure it out, it’s you guys.”

“You—you really think so?”

“I know so.” She smiles at him for another moment, then hiccups and pulls her hands back to hide behind her palms. “Oh my, I—I think I’m going to throw up.”

Shiro stares in bewilderment. “Wait—Allura, are you _drunk?”_

“Terribly so, I’m afraid,” she says, swaying in place.

Shiro reaches out and grabs her arms before she can topple over. “Oh my god, Allura, I’m—I’m sorry, I didn’t even realize you—c’mon, let’s get you to the ladies’ room.”

“I do believe that would be wise, yes.”

Allura steadies herself against him, but they’ve barely started moving before a voice calls out, “Oh, there she is!” from behind them. Shiro glances back, seeing Veronica and Acxa come hurrying down the hallway. It doesn’t take long before they’ve offered to take over, and Shiro helps both of them get one of Allura’s arms over their shoulders, then watches Veronica give him a thumbs up as they start walking.

Allura throws her head back, looking over her shoulder and calling out, “Go, Shiro! Find your white steed on a shining knight!”

“That’s not—” Shiro starts but immediately gets cut off as they all break into a fit of giggles right before turning the corner leading to the public bathrooms.

He sighs to himself, staring at the now empty space of the hallway, listening to the sound of their voices trailing off.

Drunk or not, though, Allura was right—Shiro does need to find his man.

Even if said man doesn’t want him back.

~

Except a Keith that doesn’t want to be found is pretty much impossible to find.

After another forty minutes search yielding no results, Shiro flops down on a bench outside where the ATLAS is parked. He drops his suit jacket next to him on the seat, undoing the top buttons on his shirt as well. Some running around wouldn’t usually be enough to get him all sweaty, but he welcomes the cool night air on his skin, feeling overheated from all the worrying he’s doing about how much Keith is hating him right now.

“Fuck,” he whispers to himself and hangs his head, blocking out the view of the starry sky above as he buries his face in his hands before sniffing pathetically to himself. “Fuck, fuck, fuck—”

“Hey.”

“Keith!” Shiro shoots up from his seat, desperately taking in the sight of him like Keith might vanish again any second. “I’ve been looking all over for you—”

“Yeah, sorry for, uh—just ditching you like that,” Keith says while slowly walking closer with his hands in his front pockets and a serious expression on his face.

“It’s fine,” Shiro hurries out. “I mean, I was just worried. I didn’t know where you went and I thought maybe you—” He trails off, shaking his head. “Listen, Keith, I am so, _so_ sorry for—”

“Thought I told you not to do that.” Keith crosses his arms and stares down at the ground.

“What?”

“I told you not to—” Keith looks up at him again, waving a hand in the air before pointing at his face. “You know.”

“I—yeah. Yeah, of course, I know that, I just—I thought you said that because of the bet, and… fuck. Whatever. That doesn’t matter, I know. I shouldn’t have—” Shiro exhales shakily, trying to keep himself together. “Keith. I’m sorry, okay? I really didn’t mean to—”

“Wait.” Keith frowns, shaking his head. “Why did you?”

“What?” Shiro says again, trying to follow what he’s getting at.

“Shiro.” Keith stares at him like Shiro’s being slow on purpose just to mess with him. “Why _did you try to kiss me?”_

“Because I—” Shiro opens his mouth, then closes it again. “What do you mean why! Because I _wanted to—”_

He cuts himself off, squeezing his eyes shut as he takes a deep breath.

The truth is, before tonight, Shiro was dead set on going to his grave keeping his feelings a secret from Keith. But he can’t lie about it straight to his face—not now, not after tonight, no matter what happens next. And that’s the scariest part—Shiro hasn’t known what to except if the words were ever said out loud. It’s not like he’s thought Keith would never want to speak to him again, but Shiro would never be able to forgive himself if things turned awkward between them and he had to live with the knowledge that it’s _his_ fault.

Now Keith stares at him, as wide-eyed and shocked as when Shiro first tried to kiss him. “Not—not because Lance or Allura were watching?”

_“What?”_ Shiro says, staring back while feeling really damn lost. “What the—of course not! I wouldn’t—why would you think that? Keith. I wanted to kiss you because I _always_ want to kiss you, and I—it was selfish, and I know that’s no excuse and I still shouldn’t have, but I thought—god, I don’t even know what I thought. I just… I’m sorry, Keith. I’m _sorry,_ I swear I’ve tried so hard for so long to be okay with what we have, what we _are,_ it’s just that—most of the time I’m so sure you’re the love of my life, I don’t even know what to do with myself. And I guess now tonight I was finally stupid enough to think that maybe, _maybe,_ there was a chance of you actually feeling the same, because I—god, I love you so much, I couldn’t— _fuck,_ Keith, I really am the _world’s biggest—”_

Keith stalks up to him, abruptly cutting him off by closing the distance between them. If it wasn’t _Keith,_ for a second Shiro would almost worry he was about to get beat up.

_“Dick,”_ Keith hisses, the only thing he says before he grabs the front of Shiro’s shirt and then tugs him down at the same time as he surges up.

Shiro makes a muffled noise of surprise as Keith fits their lips together, standing frozen in shock while Keith kisses him closed-mouthed and hard. There’s a loud _smack_ once they pull apart, both of them staring at each other as Keith lowers himself down from standing on his tiptoes.

“I—wh—oh. Oh my god. What?” Shiro blinks rapidly, trying to process the fact that _Keith just had his mouth on his._

“I said,” Keith says, voice shaky and low, “you’re the world’s biggest dick sometimes. But I love you too.”

“What?” Shiro whispers again. “Keith. What the hell just happened?”

“Are—you gonna be stuck like that forever now?” Keith frowns at him. He’s looking far too worried for the stunned amazement Shiro’s feeling, and Shiro’s brain finally does catch up with what happened at that, what Keith just _did._

He stares at Keith for about half a second before he shoves any thoughts aside again and grabs Keith’s face, pulling him back in to kiss him, and properly so this time.

Keith’s the one to whimper in surprise then, but it quickly turns into a low, eager moan as he melts under Shiro’s touch, parting his lips for him without question and pushing into it to get more. Their second kiss is long and slow and deep as Shiro licks into Keith’s mouth like he’s always dreamt of doing for what feels like a lifetime by now. The real thing is so, so much better than any dream, though—because now he has Keith wrapping his arms around his shoulders, clinging to Shiro tightly while sliding his tongue against Shiro’s own with unfiltered excitement. It’s all a little messy; Keith’s sloppily greedy and unrefined in his techniques, but Shiro hugs him harder and matches his enthusiasm, moaning desperately at the taste of him.

They’re both panting once they finally let their mouths part for air, their bodies still pressed close and both of them fisting their hands tightly in each other’s clothes. “You love me?” Shiro breathes against Keith’s lips.

“Don’t ask me that,” Keith whines, his voice all breathless and even deeper than usual from the kissing, and Shiro lets his eyelids slip shut when Keith presses their foreheads together. “I’m the one who should be asking _you_ that, Shiro.”

“No, no—I mean, I know you do,” Shiro says and looks at him again. He moves one hand to cup Keith’s face, stroking his thumb across his cheek. Keith still glares at him with a little pout, but his lips are really _very_ pretty, far too distracting for Shiro to focus on much else—especially now when he knows what they feel like against his own, what it’s like to _kiss_ them. It doesn’t take long for him to get lost to the thought of doing just that; kissing Keith, again and again. Licking between his parted lips, nipping at his bottom lip and sucking on his tongue, maybe hoisting Keith up in his arms while doing so. Holding him close and kissing him even harder, until Keith’s mouth is red and bruised and Shiro knows the taste of him by heart, before he moves onto every other part of Keith’s body.

Shiro shakes his head to get his brain back on track, trying to think of the task at hand. Which is to first have all of this make sense, to be absolutely _sure_ that this is real and happening and they’re on the same page. _Then_ he can hopefully get started on putting his mouth on every inch of Keith’s skin.

“But… you love me,” Shiro whispers. “You’re _in_ love with me?”

Keith doesn’t seem to have any concerns about getting distracted himself, though. He raises up on his tiptoes and kisses him with a groan that travels right from Shiro’s mouth through his chest, plummeting between his hips and stirring unashamed want in his whole body.

“Shiro,” Keith breathes against his lips. “I don’t even know what it’s like to _not_ be in love with you.”

“Keith, baby, I...” Shiro whispers and strokes his hand back to Keith’s hair, down to the start of his braid, touching the rose still there.

Keith makes a noise before surging up for another kiss. “How—god, how did you not _know?”_ he mutters between more kisses. “I thought you—”

“I—why do you keep saying that?” Shiro stammers. “How should I have known? Just earlier tonight you said you’re _not_ swooning over me!”

“I said I’m not a _cadet_ swooning over you anymore.” Keith grins up at him, pausing from trying to keep kissing him. “And—well, okay, yeah. The rest was a lie. I’ve always been and I always will be very, _very_ easy for you… sir.”

_“Keith.”_ Shiro closes his eyes, still breathless as he licks his lips and slides his hands from Keith’s hips to the small of his back, inching just a little further down to the start of his ass. “But—Keith.” It’s so difficult to make conversation happen when all he wants is to kiss Keith until he doesn’t know what it’s like not to share each breath with him anymore, but there is one thing in all of this that Shiro can’t stop thinking about. “When we—I mean, you—”

“What?” Keith says gently when Shiro trails off. He eases back down on his heels but keeps his arms wrapped around him, staying close.

“When I was still… um. Gone. In the Black Lion’s consciousness.”

“Yeah?” Keith waits patiently, his hands finding their way back to the nape of Shiro’s neck, stroking his fingertips across Shiro’s buzzed hair there.

“After you found me, when we—when I helped you unlock Black’s wings.” Shiro closes his eyes, needing a moment to center himself. He’s never really talked about it with Keith before. Any conversations they’ve had always focused on healing from their fight, from when Shiro tried to _kill_ him. “You felt it too, right? We sort of... merged.”

Keith nods slowly while furrowing his brows. “I… think so? It was kinda like—I don’t know, like being linked to the lions? Just, still different?”

Shiro frowns. “Um…”

“But I mean—” Keith says, searching Shiro’s face. “Like, I definitely know what you’re talking about, yeah. Don’t think I could ever forget what it was like to have you inside me. The whole thing was pretty incredible.”

Shiro chokes back a cough, pressing his lips together. “Right,” he says, trying to stay as serious as Keith’s looking.

It only takes a beat before Keith catches on as well, though, and then his eyes widen while his face goes red. “Shut up! I meant—I meant, you—”

“I didn’t _say_ anything, Keith!” Shiro says, unable to hold back his laugh. Keith groans and slaps both hands over his own face, slumping forward to hide against Shiro’s chest. Shiro wraps both arms around him and hugs him hard, still snickering as he kisses the top of Keith’s head. “I’m sorry, baby. Sorry. What was that about how incredible it felt to have me inside you?”

“Shiro,” Keith groans, his voice muffled. “I meant your _soul._ I felt—like, you _held my hand,_ even though your body wasn’t there, and it was—that was _cool._ That’s what I was talking about.”

“Right,” Shiro says and rubs Keith’s back. “Right, of course, baby.”

Keith’s shoulders suddenly go stiff in his hold. “Shiro...” he breathes out.

“Oh.” Shiro freezes up too, only now realizing that he’s slipped right into calling Keith pet names without even thinking. “Um. Is that okay, or—?”

Keith tilts his face back to look at him again. “Mhm. Yeah, I’ve been—pretty much dying anytime you’ve called me that tonight.”

Shiro grins and lifts one hand to stroke his knuckles down Keith’s blushing cheek. “Me too, baby,” he murmurs, smiling wider when Keith ducks his head again.

“Still can’t believe you didn’t know,” Keith mutters.

“Well, how did _you_ not know?” Shiro says. “I’m the one who’s been so flustered I’ve barely known what to do with myself all night!”

“But I thought you were—I don’t know, just having a hard time relaxing because it was a party or something. I don’t know.”

“Oh my god, Keith,” Shiro whispers.

“Anyway,” Keith shakes his head, “what were you—um... you were going to tell me about that time—”

“When you felt how amazing it was to have me ins—”

“Shiro, _stop,_ how old are you?” Keith growls and hides again in embarrassment.

“I’ll be turning seven in two weeks, thank you very much,” he says, grinning proudly when Keith peeks up at him with squinted eyes. Smirking instead, Shiro cups Keith’s chin with his hand and tilts his face up while leaning closer, their lips almost brushing when he teasingly whispers, _“Baby,”_ against Keith’s mouth.

Keith’s breath hitches and then Shiro grabs the side of his face instead while fisting the fabric at the back of Keith’s shirt tighter with his other hand, pulling him in for another rough kiss.

“No—nope, don’t—I wanna hear what you were going to say, Shiro,” Keith pants, but immediately follows it up with closing the space between them. They both moan, kissing each other deep while pressing closer for a long, long moment, until Keith breaks away with a loud gasp. He shakes his head, then licks his lips—which really isn’t fair. “Tell me.”

“About—”

_“Yes,”_ Keith laughs, resigned. “Please. Tell me what you were going to say about that time you were inside me.”

Shiro laughs softly too, before he sighs. “I don’t know,” he murmurs thoughtfully. “It’s—maybe the fact that I was actually… dead, I guess, made it a little more intense for me, or something? But it wasn’t just like I could _feel_ you, like we were watching through Black’s eyes together, or even like I saw through your eyes, Keith. It’s like I _became_ you, like we were the same person. And you—everything you felt, everything you thought… it was like I could feel all of that, too. For a moment.”

“Oh.” Keith stares at him while Shiro exhales deeply. “Holy shit, Shiro, I—I mean, it was a lot for me, too, but—I didn’t realize all of _that_ happened for you.”

“But it’s not like I meant to snoop or anything,” Shiro hurries out. “It was the only way to help, and I didn’t know how to _not_ listen in on it—”

“No!” Keith shakes his head. “No, I didn’t—I don’t mind. Shiro. It’s okay.”

Shiro huffs out a deep breath. “I just—I’m not really loving the whole ‘being in someone else’s head without their permission’ thing, you know? Especially _yours,_ when I love you so much, and I—” Shiro trails off, lifting his hand to stroke Keith’s bangs back. “I don’t know. Guess I’ve just been assuming this whole time that it was the same for both of us.”

“First of all, I love you too,” Keith says and takes his hand, squeezing it reassuringly before lifting it to press a kiss to Shiro’s knuckles. Shiro shivers, flustered all over again by the simple gesture. “And I get it, but just so you know, from now on, you have full permission to accidentally end up in my mind whenever. And you never have to feel guilty or bad about it, alright?”

Shiro laughs again. “Thank you, buddy. Same goes for you. With me, I mean.”

“Baby.”

“What?”

“I think you should—I mean, you can stop calling me—that.”

“Oh. Right.” Shiro grins wider, correcting himself, “Sorry, baby.”

Keith bites his bottom lip around his own smile, cheeks flushed pink, before he frowns again. “But… that _really_ doesn’t explain how you didn’t know how I feel.”

“You really liked me already back then?” Shiro says, still overcome with disbelief by the fact that Keith even likes him at all in this way.

“That wasn’t even that long ago,” Keith says. “I told you. I’ve always liked you.”

“Seriously?”

“You think I _wouldn’t_ get a big fat crush on the hot older guy who was super nice to me and then _also_ dragged me along for a lot of cool stuff like showing me how to do a hoverbike cliff dive?” Keith sounds teasing at first, but his smile softens, before he shrugs. “And then… y’know, I got to know you, and—don’t think I ever really stood a chance. You’re my best friend, Shiro. I love you. I’ve always loved you.”

Shiro can’t help it; he knows they’re supposed to be talking, but while the bluntless is nothing new coming from Keith, he’s still so earnest, telling Shiro things he couldn’t have imagined ever hearing even in his wildest dreams. He kisses Keith again, holding his face in both hands and practically devouring him until Keith’s melted against him, clutching at the collar of Shiro’s shirt while whimpering into his mouth.

Shiro licks his lips once they part, simply breathing in the same space for another moment and stroking the tip of his nose against Keith’s own. “Guess we’re both kind of idiots, huh?” he whispers.

“I’m fine with that.” Keith smiles. “I don’t mind being an idiot if it’s with you. I mean—so long as I know about it.”

Shiro chuckles, his heart overcome with joy, and they’re both smiling so wide it makes kissing hard once they press their mouths back together. 

“Okay, it’s just—” Shiro closes his eyes, finally forcing himself again to stop kissing Keith long enough to get the words out. “When I felt your feelings… I don’t know, you’d just said I was your brother, again. And then—it _felt_ like you thought of me as your family. Like, that’s how you loved me.”

“But… I do.” Keith frowns and Shiro blinks at him, confused again.

“You do?”

“Well, yeah. You are my family.”

“So—I… what? You do love me like family?”

“Of course I do.” Keith studies his face. “I love you in every way, Shiro. And it’s because I love you that you’re my family, you know? You’re my everything.”

“Oh,” Shiro breathes out.

“I’m—sorry. Maybe that doesn’t make sense and I’m—”

“Keith.” Shiro holds his face firmer when Keith flicks his gaze away self-consciously, until Keith looks at him again, and then he smiles brightly. “You’re my everything too.”

“Yeah?” Keith breathes out, as disbelieving and awed as Shiro feels.

“Yeah,” Shiro says. “Of course you are. If you want me, you have me. All of me. Any way you want me—family, friend, boyfriend—”

Keith makes a noise and answers by surging up for another kiss. “You’re the only one I’ve ever wanted, Shiro,” he says against Shiro’s lips. “You’re—fuck, you’ve _always_ been the only one—”

“You have me.” Shiro moans the words against his mouth, promising again, “God, you have me, baby,” before kissing him once more. It’s desperate, but it’s the only thing Shiro can do to quell the overwhelming surge of feelings in his chest.

So, he kisses Keith again.

And then again and again, now that he can.

~

“Sorry I ruined our first date,” Shiro breaks the silence between them much later. The night has almost turned to early morning as their feet carry them to the doors of the Captain’s quarters.

“You’ve said that like twenty times already,” Keith says and tugs at their clasped hands while he turns towards Shiro so they’re standing face-to-face, “and I’ve told you, this was _not_ our first date.” He’s got a smug little smile on his face, still stuck there after he won the discussion of who should be walking who back to their door by saying that since he picked Shiro up, he should be dropping him off, too.

“I know,” Shiro says. Whatever else he had planned on saying leaves his mind as he gets lost for a moment in savouring the sight of Keith right now. His bowtie is hanging undone around his neck, and his braid is all mussed up by now—mostly due to Shiro’s greedy hands grabbing at Keith’s hair while they’ve been making out. The rose is still in place in his braid, though.

“Besides,” Keith murmurs and steps in closer, placing the hand not intertwined with Shiro’s on Shiro’s chest. He gently strokes his fingertips up towards the collar of Shiro’s shirt. “I’d say the night worked out pretty nicely. Don’t you think?”

“‘Pretty nicely’ is one way to refer to the best night of my life so far, baby,” Shiro says, raising an eyebrow when Keith’s fingertips slip down across the bare skin of Shiro’s chest where the top buttons of his shirt are undone all the way down to his pecs.

Keith grins, his cheeks going pink as he flicks his eyes down, watching where he’s touching Shiro’s chest before smiling up at him again.

“You really _are_ cheesy,” he says fondly. Then his smile falls away, expression turning guilty instead. “But it’s been the best night of my life too, Shiro. So I’m the one who should be apologizing. I was an ass.”

“What? No, you weren’t, baby.”

“Okay.” Keith exhales shakily and looks at him. “How about we just agree on no more apologizing? For either of us.” 

“Deal.” Shiro grins, but tips his head back so Keith can’t reach his mouth when he starts to lean up for a kiss, then grips Keith’s chin. _“Kissing?_ Even though we apparently haven’t even been on a date yet? Oh, Paladin, how scandalous of you.”

Keith huffs and slumps down from standing on his tiptoes. “Alright, so let’s fix that,” he says and strokes one hand up Shiro’s arm. “Seriously. Tomorrow night. Let me take you out on a real date.”

“Yeah?”

“If you’d like to.”

“There’s nothing I’d want more.” Shiro smiles, and then he’s really not strong enough to keep up the teasing. Instead he dips down, pressing his lips to Keith’s lovely mouth while feeling his heart flutter. They’ve already been making out so much tonight—before they went back to the party, during it while they had a few proper slow-dances, and in a way that would truly count as _scandalous_ in one of the public bathrooms—but Shiro never wants to stop. He could spend the rest of his life right here, like this, with his lips on Keith’s mouth.

He can’t get enough of him.

Keith moans and moves both hands to Shiro’s neck, his fingertips slipping in underneath the collar of his shirt. Shiro groans, shuffling closer while getting his own hands on Keith’s hips so he can guide him back up against the wall.

“Shiro, fuck,” Keith breathes against his mouth, whimpering when Shiro gets a foot between Keith’s boots. Shiro knocks Keith’s left foot to the side so he can get a thigh properly between his legs, then presses in close. Lifting one hand back to Keith’s cheek, Shiro tilts his face up for another deep kiss, their moans loud in the empty hallway outside Shiro’s quarters while Shiro licks his way between Keith’s parted lips. He pushes forward without thinking, both of them groaning desperately as their hips connect, crotches pressing flush.

Shiro wrenches himself away from Keith’s mouth and closes his eyes, leaning only his upper body against him while both try to catch their breath.

He still can’t wrap his head around how Keith had never even kissed anyone before tonight—something Keith’s made sure he can’t forget about with all his continued jokes about how Shiro’s really indulging him by teaching Keith _everything._ Which only adds to Shiro’s bafflement over Keith also telling him that he’s thought he wasn’t any good at flirting, something that sounds completely wild to Shiro when Keith’s everything he’s ever wanted, makes Shiro feel _want_ like he’s never felt it before.

“Keith…” Shiro finally whispers, pressing his lips against Keith’s temple. “God, I don’t know if…”

“Hm?” Keith breathes.

Shiro groans, ducking down to nose at his neck for another moment, kissing the side of his throat before he murmurs, “I don’t know if I should ask if you want to come inside.”

Keith’s breath shakes out of him. “Is that—do you want to ask me that?”

“Yes.” Shiro pulls back to look at him, a disbelieving laugh leaving him over Keith even asking that. “God, yeah, baby, of course I do.”

Sliding his hands to Shiro’s back and up between his shoulder blades, Keith cranes his neck up and whispers against his lips, “If you do, I won’t be able to say no.”

“Oh...”

“So—you shouldn’t.”

“I—oh?” Shiro freezes up and then tries to take a step back, to put even more distance between them. Keith keeps his grip on his shoulders tight, though, so instead Shiro starts rambling, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t—I didn’t mean to push—”

_“Shiro.”_ Keith cuts him off with a chuckle. “Don’t talk to me about _pushing_ when I literally didn’t even know how you felt before tonight.”

“Right.” Shiro nods. “But we—yeah, we just got together. We should take it slower, I get it. That makes sense.”

“No, no, I definitely don’t wanna take it slower.” Keith slides his hands down Shiro’s back, past his waist, then _lower._

“You—no?” Shiro fights back a whimper when Keith places both palms on his ass and then shamelessly gropes him.

Roughly squeezing Shiro’s ass again, Keith lets go to crane up and put his mouth against Shiro’s ear, breathing out there, “You have no idea how bad I want you, Captain.”

“God, _Keith,”_ Shiro moans and pulls back just to capture his lips in another heated kiss. “I’ve told you, you have me. Anything you want, baby, I’ll—”

Keith moans too, but quickly breaks away to shake his head. “I just—”

“What?” Shiro says, making another attempt to catch his breath while gently shifting his body back. Whatever Keith might _want,_ it doesn’t seem to match with what’s going to happen, and Shiro needs to stop letting them both get distracted so he can find out what Keith’s thinking. “Come on, Keith, talk to me. It’s okay, I promise.”

Keith smiles wide, then closes his eyes and thumps his head back against the wall. “I just—fuck, Shiro. I’ve waited for this for years. For _you._ I don’t want us to have our anniversary on Valentine’s Day.”

Shiro blinks at that before he laughs in surprise. “What? Is that why—Keith, oh my—”

“I’m serious!” Keith says, and he sure does sound it. “I don’t want to share our anniversary with something as big as that. That’s not the kind of cheesy I’m into.”

Shiro laughs louder, wrapping both arms around Keith’s waist. “You know, technically it already _is_ tomorrow—”

_“No,_ it’s not the same and you know it. Gotta sleep first.”

“Yeah, okay, fair enough,” Shiro says, fighting back another giggle. “That’s valid, baby, you’re right. Guess I’m just—gonna have to go into my room all alone. Take all my clothes off and crawl into bed, let nothing but my thoughts of you keep me company…”

Keith lets out another whine. “Shiro…”

“You have to stop making those noises, baby,” Shiro murmurs in his ear. “Or I’m not gonna be able to stop thinking about all the sounds I can’t wait to hear you make for me.”

Keith’s moan is _obscene,_ but then he groans, steeling his resolve and ripping himself away from Shiro’s hold. “You’re the one who taught me about patience, you know, old-timer,” he says as he starts walking backwards, looking all disheveled while Shiro stares at him. “And you really tested me on it too.”

“Mm,” Shiro agrees and crosses his arms, leaning one shoulder against the wall as he trails his eyes up and down Keith’s body in the least subtle way possible. “But that was before I knew how bad I’d want you, baby.”

Keith stops in his steps, tongue poking out to wet his bottom lip. “Shiro...” 

“No, no, I’m just teasing, Keith. I’m sorry.”

“But we—” Keith glances at Shiro’s door before he quickly starts shaking his head. “No. _Nope._ You’re right, so—stop it. I’m gonna take you out on your dream date first. Tomorrow.”

“Dream date, huh?” Shiro breathes out, unable to fight the silly grin spreading on his face.

“Gonna be _so_ cliche.” Keith smiles back. “Just for you.”

“Looking forward to it, baby.”

“You should.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Who knows, if you’re really nice, I might even give you a kiss at the end of the night.”

“Of course you will.” Shiro smirks at him. “You’re a good boy like that for me, right?”

“Shiro, oh my god.” Keith slaps his palms over his face, laughing again. 

“Anyway, I’m gonna go sleep now so it can be tomorrow already.”

_“Good.”_ Keith lowers his hands, still smiling and red-cheeked. “Hope you meant what you said.”

“Which part?”

“That—you know. You’ll think of me once you’re in bed.”

“Keith.” Shiro’s breath hitches, but Keith starts walking backwards again.

“G’night, Captain,” he says, then turns around, and Shiro stares at his ass without even feeling guilty about it.

He can do these things now.

Keith _wants_ Shiro, the same way Shiro wants him.

“Keith, wait!” Shiro calls out, unable to stop himself. He runs up to him, wrapping an arm around Keith’s waist and sweeping him up in his arms just as he turns back to face Shiro. Shiro doesn’t give him time to question things before he dips Keith low again, capturing his lips in another hard kiss as he does.

Keith moans and gets an arm around Shiro’s shoulders, kissing him back, laughing when they pull apart.

“What was that for?” Keith says breathlessly while looking up at him, still held in Shiro’s arms.

“Just felt like it.” Shiro grins. “Because I love you so much.” He gives Keith one final kiss, then reluctantly pulls them upright.

Keith’s face goes an even deeper crimson red but he grins back, wide and unrestrained in his joy. “I love you, too,” he says and cups Shiro’s face, surging in for another kiss.

“Can’t wait to kiss you again tomorrow,” Shiro sighs happily between more kisses. “And every day after that.”

Keith laughs against his lips, shoving at Shiro’s chest, but quickly grabs his neck and kisses him again. “You sap. Now— _fuck,_ get going. Take your—stupid, perfect, beautiful face and get out of my sight before I won’t be able to stop myself from getting you naked right here in the hallway.”

“Keith, oh my—”

_“Goodnight,_ Shiro.”

“Goodnight, baby,” Shiro says _again,_ both of them laughing and Keith looking just as stupidly smitten as Shiro feels.

“Sweet dreams, sir,” Keith says and flicks Shiro’s bangs.

Shiro grabs his hand, giving him another kiss simply because he can’t stop himself.

Keith sighs happily, melting against him before he hugs Shiro hard like he just needs to hold him for a moment. Shiro wraps his arms around him, hugging him back, and then he whispers, “Good boy, Keith.”

“Oh my _god.”_ Keith shoves away from him again, rolling his eyes with another laugh. “You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?”

“Nope.” Shiro grins so wide his cheeks hurt.

“Fuck you, man.”

“Mm, thought we decided on waiting until tomorrow, baby,” Shiro says and winks at him.

_“Shiro_ —”

_“Go_. Sleep. So it can finally turn into ‘tomorrow’.”

Keith huffs and gives him a salute. “Yessir.”

“Wait,” Shiro stops him, thoughtful for a moment. “How about a breakfast date?”

Keith snorts. “Just—call me, okay?” he says, and Shiro reaches out with his Altean hand to grab his hand when Keith starts walking backwards. “We’ll see. I’ve got plans for us, you know.”

“Oh, I bet you do.”

“Goodnight, Shiro,” Keith says again, still grinning, but his voice is all soft and sincere.

“Goodnight, baby,” Shiro says, and watches Keith walk away.

It’s not until he’s almost at the end of the hallway and about to turn around again with his back to Shiro that he stops. 

“Um. Shiro?”

“Yes?”

“Your hand?” Keith says and jiggles the prosthetic still holding Keith’s hand.

“It’s fine,” Shiro waves him off with his left hand. “I can still see it.”

Keith snickers and lifts their hands where their fingers are interlaced, hiding his own face behind it. _“Down,_ boy,” Keith finally says and untangles their grip, then presses a kiss to Shiro’s palm before he gently pushes the arm away. “Go on. Go back home to your daddy.”

Shiro laughs louder at that, starting to pull his arm back. But when Keith turns around so they’re not facing each other anymore, he can’t stop himself—he floats it back and slaps Keith’s ass.

Keith squeaks and jumps in surprise, twirling around wide-eyed.

“Sorry!” Shiro says, while Keith glares at him with another poorly hidden laugh. “Oh my gosh, I have _no_ idea what’s wrong with it, seems to really be acting up tonight—”

“I’ll get you back for that tomorrow, old-timer!” Keith calls out, his chuckle and the beautiful bright smile on Keith’s face lingering in Shiro’s mind even after he’s out of sight.

Shiro stays leaned against the hallway wall, letting his eyelids slip shut as he keeps grinning to himself. He finally breaks out of the moment when his phone chimes with a message from Keith, and reading it makes Shiro’s smile go impossibly wider.

_i can’t wait to kiss you tomorrow & every day after that too. 🖤 _

Shiro quickly texts back, _I love you!!!_ , then adds, _So much ❤️💖💖💕❤️💕💕❤️💖💕💖❤️💕💖❤️💕💖❤️_

Keith’s reply is just as fast, simply reading, _lol nerd,_ and Shiro laughs out loud—but it’s followed up with a new one right away that says, _🖤🖤🖤!!!!!!!_

Shiro pushes himself up away from the wall and finally presses his palm to unlock the doors to his quarters, feeling so happy he swears he could start crying as he steps inside.

He can’t _wait_ for tomorrow.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading!! comments always brighten my day, if you feel like leaving one!
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/sugarcubeshiro)


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